


Monsters, Gods and the One Thing That Matters

by PlasticBattleAxe



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) RPF, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aphrodite!Jeremy, Apollo!Christine, Ares!Rich, Boyf, Demeter!Brooke, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hades!Chloe, Half Blood AU, Hephestus!Mikey, Hermes!Jenna, M/M, More tags to be added, Mr Heere!!!!, Percy Jackson AU, Pining, Slow Burn, THIS IS GONNA BE SO LONG, Zeus!Jake, and i might introduce some other musical kids depends, anxious!jeremy, boyf/riends - Freeform, brooke lohst? perfect., but he doesn't know it, but i have a story to tell!, but like she could still cut a bitch goth, but not really?, finally a fic where jeremy is pining and michael is oblivious, its a camp half blood au!, jake is lowkey an ass at the begining, jeremy is super powerful, kind of a song fic, lowkey goth chloe, maybe smut eventually, maybe the pjo squad will be mentioned, meremy, michael getting beat up, might mention other peoples hc so sorry about that but ill try and give credit, mikey is so fucking gay bro, my sweet boy he doesnt deserve this, okay i lied im stealing different musical characters left right and centre, riends, wow a fic that doesn't glorify self harm? wild.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-04-19 15:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14240733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlasticBattleAxe/pseuds/PlasticBattleAxe
Summary: Michael didn't really have many plans for his summer, but when something strange shows up in his basement he is plunged into a world of monsters, gods and scariest of all; a budding crush on his best friendNOTE: you don't have to know that much about pjo to actually get into this! (most stuff gets explained!)





	1. Stay High (Tove Low, Queen of the Clouds)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael reflects on his last 2 weeks.

It had been 2 weeks since Jeremy had left

Well he hadn’t left, he had been forced away, Michael reminded himself through the haze in his basement. Jeremy hadn’t left, he had just been whisked off to summer camp, yes summer camp of all places. he cast another forlorn look at the "hot fireman" fireman calendar Jeremy had got for Michael last Christmas, the date was July 23rd, meaning he had 8 more weeks Jeremy free since he checked 7 minutes ago, the very thought made him feel slightly sick. Michael silently sent more "I'm very pissed off at you" vibes to Mr Heere. Apparently wearing pants and being responsible and all that other adult shit meant dragging your son away from all his summer vacation shenanigans and carting his him into his own personal hell. A summer camp would be everything Jeremy hated. Outdoor activities where other people would judge him, forced interaction with strangers and a lack of cell reception, scratch that, technology at all. Now poor Jer was miles away and Michael had been left alone to be lonely on his basement, thinking about all the plans he and Jer had made for this summer. Thanks Mr Heere.

Michael didn’t blame him of course, not really. He was just trying his best to be responsible and a better dad. But that didn't stop there being a blue beanbag next to Michael and it looking _so empty_  without his chestnut-haired friend. After all, there were only so many times you could replay Uncharted on single player before inevitably throwing your remote across the room in a boredom filled spur of anger (sorry Devin the cactus. May you and your very smashable terracotta pot rest in pieces). He took another long inhale of his joint before dropping it down into the shitty ashtray Jeremy had made him in 8th grade pottery. The faint sounds of Angus and Julia stone played in the background from Michaels ancient record player and he felt his heart drop even deeper into his chest.

Music was a big part of his life, but, while it might be ever present, it was never really satisfying unless Jeremy's bubbling squealy laughter was being played at full volume over the top.

He enjoyed his own company, he really did. But a fortnight Jeremyless was beginning to take a bit of a toll on him. It’s not as though he didn’t have friends (Michael snorted to himself, now he was really making shit up again) – his family friend Dustin had been over a couple of times, but no matter how well he Dustin gamed he still couldn’t quite make Michael roar with laughter at a bad furby joke. And no matter how nice Michael felt when he opened the door to the basement he would never feel as high as when he heard a high pitched “honeeeeeeeeeey i'm home” before having the wind knocked out of him by his best friends tight hug.

Michael watched the shopping channel. He threw his old baseball up to himself, he counted his ceiling tiles. He jacked off, napped, then jacked off again. He went through joint after joint. Hell, he played the copy of Lego Star Wars his cousin Nicki had left behind a month ago. but nothing seemed to help his dazed state.

so now, here he sat, smoking yet another joint and watching the sunlight streaming through the open skylight in his basement, it made a beautiful pattern with the smoke Michael thought, twisting and turning, always in motion. Michael sighed heavily and wished that his life could have some purpose, or he could have some motivation because at this rate, this summer break was going to be the longest since fourth grade

 

And that’s when the fucking snake lady crashed through the ceiling.


	2. ...Ready for It (Taylor Swift, Reputation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michaels Sunday takes an unexpected turn

At first Michael didn't even react, what do you do when a literal fucking - whatever that was- decides to burst through your ceiling. he just lay in his beanbag dumbfounded, joint still halfway up to his mouth. The dust cleared and Michael’s brain went blank, he’d been on the internet for a while but had never stumbled across a wikihow article titled “what to do when a snake thing intrudes on your sleepy Sunday afternoon” because that didn't happen. Especially not in New Jersey at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon.  
And then he started to laugh. Like really laugh and laugh hard because what the fuck! What the fuck!! Weed wasn’t a hallucinogen, and he sure as hell didn't feel like he was dreaming. And yet something not human, _definitely_ not human had just crashed through his mcfreaking ceiling like a fucking meteor. That just was beyond what he could comprehend. Sorry. Not today bitch.  
And then the thing lifted its head, and suddenly Michael wasn't laughing anymore because the woman’s - no, _thing’s_ , eyes were red, (which didn't shock him as much as it should have honestly.)  But those eyes were filled with something not right. Not right at all, full of such a chaotic energy that made him feel something he hadn't felt before; old and primal. And Michael froze over as the thing bared its teeth at him and slowly began to stalk toward him

“Run” the ancient voice inside him screamed. “Run. danger. RUN”

 _**“** _ _**RUN** _ _**”** _

And so he did

He scrambled out of his beanbag and the creature shook itself out. Michael realized it had shrub like wings protruding from its back. It was also a shade of emerald green and yep, that wasn't skin that was scales she was covered in scales _holy shit HOLY SHIT_.

Michael tore out of his basement and the thing gave chase. Michael knew he wasn't the fittest guy around but anybody could become a sprinter if there was something that looked more like a dragon than a human following them. Especially if the thing was calling out the person's name. Holy shit it was calling out his name.

“ _MICHAAAAAAAELLLLLL_ L” the thing hissed from behind him and suddenly Michael was slamming the front door behind him and pulling at the handle on his car. He was shaking, badly. After the fifth heavy tug at the handle he remembered his keys were sitting on his kitchen bench.  
And he couldn't get to them  
Because standing in the door was a seven-foot-tall serpent with red eyes and a woman's torso and it was coming at him impossibly fast.

Michael began to run again. He could hear himself screaming and yelling. Could feel his blood rushing as he pelted down the asphalt. He couldn't think. Couldn't register anything except the pounding in his chest and the feeling of his feet pounding down on the hot suburban road as adrenaline vaulted him down the street. He stole a glance backward. The thing was really close behind him. Scarily closer then it should have been. It was wiggling toward him like a cobra, and in its hand was a fucking spear

Michael picked up the pace and closed his eyes tight for a second. He didn't know how long he could keep this up and that thing was definitely gaining on him.

“Holy shit” he thought “I’m going to die. I’m going to fucking die”

He opened his eyes at the sound of screeching. that wasn’t the dragon lady who made that noise right? because if it was he might shit himself right there and then.

No that screech was familiar it sounded like

A car?

Michael turned around just in time to see a figure scramble out of a red Honda civic that had pulled over right next to the creature from behind. The sun shone right into Michael’s eyes from this angle and he couldn’t make out much of the figure but a dark outline. He kept his head turned and ran on, the light blinding him somewhat. The figure lifted something in his hands, took careful aim, and suddenly the creature had stopped and let out a shriek that could’ve broken a double glazed window. To Michael’s shock the thing staggered, keeled over and just before it hit the road, it exploded into a cloud of yellow dust.

 

It all happened so quickly he could’ve blinked and missed it. But someone definitely just shot that snake thing with what looked like a crossbow.

 

Michael came to a halt, he was shaking badly, and he could smell smoke (he would deal with that later) he fell to his knees. Breathing hard, body glazed with sweat that was dripping down his face. he lay backward right in the middle of the quiet street. He stared up at the sky, he could feel the blood rushing in his ears and his heart still beating as fast as a rabbit.  He felt something cold on his cheek and realized he was crying. Out of relief or terror he didn’t know

 

He closed his eyes and lay there in silence. Letting the sun warm his body and his internal functions slow. He refused to think about what just happened. He just couldn’t let himself.

 

He registered that there was a large shape was blocking out the sun

 

Michael opened his eyes to see a man, with what most definitely was a crossbow, standing over him with concern on his face

 

“Michael?”

 

Michael knew that voice, he knew that voice well. Very well.

 

Michael looked back up at Mr Heere in all his pant wearing glory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Nerds, this will probably get updated a lot slower then everyone would like but ill try my best. hope you enjoy. please leave suggestions in the comments for anything you would like to see. Kudos is appreciated  
> if u wanna see more stuff head to my tumblr: www.plasticbattleaxe.tumblr.com  
> i also draw sometimes! so if you wanna see some eventual art of this series head to my tumblr: www.plasticbattleart.tumblr. com


	3. Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen, Best Hits)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Mr Heere explains himself

_The rain pelted down on his face, littering the thick grass around him with droplets that seemed to reflect the light a little too brightly. He looked around. He was surrounded by trees, pine trees to his left and right and a sloping hill behind him covered in dense forest. In front of him was a small cottage, right in th middle of a clearing of grass that enclosed the house on all sides in a perfect circle. Pink light was coming from the cottage. The colour of a winter sunrise. As the rain picked up he realised how cold he was. He looked around._

_He was completely alone from what he could see_

_His gut told him “fuck it, just do it”_

_Michael Mell’s hands burst into flame and he began his walk through the tall grass toward the cottage._

 

Michael awoke to the smell of greasy fried food and a pounding in his head that felt a lot like someone very small was slamming a hammer into his skull from the inside with all their tiny might. He was on something...comfortable? Something that definitely wasn’t tarmac - the last thing he could remember. He opened his eyes. He was on his living room couch. Weird. But he wasn’t mad about it. A towel had been thrown over him. He knew that someone had thrown a towel over him because no matter how high he got Michael always remembered where to find a blanket. As his senses came too he could hear the faint sound of?

David Bowie?

No

An _awful_ rendition of David Bowie being sung from the kitchen.

Michaels stomach growled. Like literally made a noise that sounded a lot more like a whale then a stomach. he staggered up and toward the door to his dining room and kitchen, tripping over the towel twice on his way because he was cold dammit and a towel was better than nothing. He pushed open the door to the kitchen and was greeted by bright lights, a faint smell of burning and the large frame of Jeremy’s dad singing, reading the newspaper and sipping a cup of something that looked an awful lot like red wine from a mug at his kitchen table. Mr Heere started at the opening of the door but upon seeing Michael he smiled widely, stood up and engulfed him in a bear hug.

“Morning sunshine” he said, the grin in his voice mixed with something else, weariness maybe. Yeah, he sounded pretty tired. “You're gonna wanna take a seat. I got us $50 dollars’ worth of McDonalds. You're gonna need some sustenance for this.

 

“Mr Heere why did you get $50 worth of McDonalds.”

 

“Well I tried to make you comfort food, you know. Because its been a long day and you needed something to eat but I severely underestimated how hard that would be to actually cook.”  
Mr Heere gestured to the bin which had a giant charred husk of what one was macaroni.

 

Well that clears up the burning smell, thought Michael.

 

“No uh.. What I mean Mr Heere is WHY did you buy $50 dollars’ worth of McDonalds. Why are you here. Why does my head hurt and why…” Michael trailed off as he began to remember the events of that afternoon?

“...did I get attacked... by a… scaly...thing? Woman? Whatever that was?”  


Mr Heere set down his space invaders mug of what really, really looked like red wine the more Michael stared at it. The old man looked at Michael directly in the eyes. His face was stubbly, outlined by laugh lines and he smiled. But the smile was weary and tired and bittersweet. The old man let out a long sigh. “Well Michael. It’s going to get a bit weird from here.”

“I won’t judge until you've finished.” Michael answered, leaning forward in his chair “but you're scaring me a bit with the whole ‘get weird’ foreshadowing”

“Well son” Mr Heere ran a hand through his hair. “There isn't really a good way of saying this that won’t make me sound a bit insane.” he paused and took a shaky breath. “But do you remember when Jeremy's mum left?” Michaels brow creased a tiny bit.

That is not where he thought this conversation was going but here he was “Yeah I remember”

“Well I tried to keep it under wraps, she wasn’t meant to stay so long on the first place. She didn’t really go you see Michael - because she shouldn’t of been able to exist in the first place.”

 

“Mr Heere I'm not following”

 

“My wife was a goddess son. And not in the figurative sense. My wife was the Greek goddess Aphrodite. The goddess of love”

 

Michael Mell had to remind himself of what he had said when this started about not judging until his best friend’s father had finished. Even if he had literally just said his wife was a deity.

 

“And that means that Jeremy was born with, with abilities. Abilities that mortals don’t experience.”

Mr Heere took a deep breath

“Have you ever been with Jeremy when you're sad only to find that feeling randomly vanish completely? Have you ever been near him and suddenly found yourself doing something he asked you to do that you just obeyed without thinking about it? Have you ever seen something you wanted to see and as soon as Jeremy looks away, it’s just not there anymore?”

Michaels took all this in

And then his eyes widened

because, yeah Mr Heere probably was insane but what he was saying was making an **uncanny** amount of sense

Because this stuff had happened.

 

Michaels brain was split. 70% of him was **absolutely completely sure** that he had literally just smoked too much pot. He was sure that he, Michael Mell, was the first man alive to overdose on cannabis and that’s why this middle aged man was telling him that his best friend had super powers and that because of this he had been attacked by a reptile lady earlier. But what Mr Heere unlocked in that last part of what he said made 30%, a tiny voice in the back of Michaels head, chant “what if, what if, what if” “what If” because if what Jeremy's dad was saying was true it would explain a lot. Like a lot a lot.

 

Like the time in fourth grade where Michael had tripped down the stairs, and while Jeremy sat next to him while baby Michael cried his eyes out, Little Michael felt all his tears suddenly stop coming down in his face. He had suddenly felt fantastic! Over the moon! But Jeremy had scrunched up his face into a little ball and refused to say anything because “it hurt”

 

Or that time a late last year when Jeremy had called him in the middle of a dinner with his extended family, Begging him to come over and play video games. And Michael had just. Stood up. And gotten into his car. And driven away. Halfway to Jeremy’s house he became dimly aware that his mother had been calling out after him angrily. But Michael found himself not caring (an odd sensation when it came to his mother who he loved very much) Because Jeremy had asked for him. And he had come just as asked. And for some reason that was the only thing he cared about.

 

Or that time from when they were both very small and Jeremy slept over at his house. Just as Michael was falling asleep he swore he would have seen big shimmering blue butterflies dancing around Jeremy's tiny head of curls.

 

Little things that Michael had brushed aside as weird or coincidence or just him being a blind fuck. It was all being flipped over in his mind. Memory by memory and this – this new information was clearing up a lot more then he could’ve imagined.

Mr Heere had planted a seed of doubt in Michaels mind and it had grown into a sapling. And then from a sapling to a shrub. And now a full tree of utter disbelief was covering because if what Mr Heere was saying was probably true.

And if it was true, that might explain a lot more about his entire life.

So much would be explained that he maybe, possibly, couldn't help but give into a little tiny bit of belief in Mr Heere’s tale.

 

Mr Heere dutifully watched Michaels face after his proclamation. He had seen Michaels face flash from scorn, to confusion, to awe and now finally to something that could only be described as “shook”

 

Michael started to talk but Mr Heere Shushed him. “Let me finish son. This next bit might make you a little bit more emotional.”

 

Michael smiled at that becaus _e yeah fucking right you just told me my best friend was literally half god and, even crazier, I fucking believed you good luck buddy._

 

Mr Heere looked at Michael dead in the eyes. “And I think, by what I’ve seen from you that you might be the same, I think you're a demigod”

 

Michael snorted.

 

But then Mr Heere said something that made him freeze.

“It would explain the fire thing wouldn’t it”

 

Michael **stopped dead**

 ****

He looked anywhere but Mr Heere’s face because Mr Heere **_couldn’t_** know that. He had made very sure to never show anyone at all.

 

“I - uhh - what!?” Michael squeaked.

 

“Look son. Today you saw a monster. An actual, living breathing monster. That can only happen in two possible scenario’s.  Scenario 1) you can see through the mist.”

 

Michael shot Mr Heere a confused look

 

“The mist is what people like me and you and Jeremy call this, shit how do I explain it, we call this thing that stops mortals seeing what’s really happening around them. Didn’t you think it was a bit odd today when you were screaming, and yelling being chased by a serpent and nobody came out to see what was going on? Nobody at all? That’s because the mist blocks it out. There are some mortals who can see through the mist but it’s pretty uncommon”

 

Michael decided to take this in his stride because honestly weirder shit had happened in this conversation and he wanted to see where Mr Heere was going with this.

 

“Option 2) is that you’re a half-blood. Half human, Half god. All demigods can see monsters which would explain the Scythian Drakainai I had to shoot earlier today; that’s the proper name for the ‘snake lady’ as you put it. It would explain who your mum was really with before she met Sonja and found her soulmate. What if she doesn't talk about your father for a reason Michael. And if this is true it would explain the”

 

Mr Heere gestured to Michael vaguely.

 

“You know the fire thing”

 

“How do you know about that” Michael whispered quietly. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He had tried so hard to keep it a secret and now he could feel himself breaking apart because nobody could know. His mother had made him promise. Years ago. He just-

 

“Michael, I’ve known you since you were born. I knew your mother years before you were even conceived. I’ve babysat you and Jeremy when you two were still in diapers.

Mr Heere gave a small chuckle and took a sip from his mug

 

“Normally toddlers don’t spontaneously combust Michael. The also normally don't laugh when it happens”

 

Mr Heere shook his head and looked down at the table, clearly lost in some far away memory of Michael and his own blue eyed boy.

“Then, why now?” Michael stared at the man across the table. He had so many questions about this. Why did he take Jeremy away? Where was Jeremy now? Was Michael gonna be okay? Where there gonna be more scy **thots** or whatever they were called? Who was Michael's dad? What wa-

 

“I drove Jeremy the same place I’m gonna drive you, a safe place. We head out tomorrow morning” said Mr Heere.

 

“I would have asked Laura to take you, or Sonja - but they would both would rush back from the Philippines and ruin their holiday and you know how hard they both work. I bet you want to see them both Michael. I’m sorry.”

 

Michael couldn't do anything but nod. His mothers were only away for a couple of days, but Mr Heere was right. He knew that it would only stress them more if he told them about all of this stuff.

 

“Look son; I drove Jeremy away because I heard rumors of monsters about. And then a saw a blue giant walking through the city! I hadn’t seen such a dangerous monster in gods knows how long Michael and,’”

 

the older man leaned back in his chair

 

“Well I knew Jeremy was going to have to go eventually. He wasn’t happy about it, but it’s the safest place for, well for people like us. I should’ve taken Jeremy a long time ago but things really haven’t been the same with me since she left. Ive been trying to get it together and this was the only way I knew I could keep Jeremy safe. I knew you would have to go as well but I wasn’t sure how I could get you to come. You can’t really show up at your son’s best friend’s house and tell him all of this out of the blue; And then just expect him to get in a car and take a road trip to Long Island without so much as a goodbye to his parents.”

 

Michael slowly nodded. That made sense to him

 

“But I was stupid Michael, you could have been killed today because I didn't know what to do. I’m going to make it right. Tomorrow morning, we leave for Long Island sound at 8.30, leave a video message for your mothers and I’ll explain everything else they ask”

 

“I don't get to say goodbye?” Michael croaked.

 

“I don't know how long we have until another monster shows up kiddo. And it could be worse than that thing from earlier today”

 

Michael understood this. But he wasn't happy about it.

 

“Go pack your bag son” said Mr Heere with a weary smile. “Then get some sleep, you might have a vivid dream tonight, part of the demigod package I’m afraid”

 

Michael didn't know what to say. He knew he wanted to say something but honestly he had no idea what to ask instead he just silently rose and chugged the rest of Mr Heere’s mug.

 

It was, without a doubt, red wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suh my dudes.  
> this was a long-ish chapter  
> just to let y'all know I have a couple of tests this week so might not update for a while but it will be more regular after that
> 
> some FAQ  
> \- Mr Heere is a halfblood child of Frey (I might mention that again eventually but might not so here)  
> _ the Squip Squad doesn't go to school with Jeremy and Michael in this au, we'll meet them all but our boy Mikey doesn't know them yet  
> \- Michael is...too tired for this poor boi  
> \- Michaels dream is CRYPTIC but will explained more later ;)
> 
> thank you for reading! hopefully we will catch up with Jerermy soon 
> 
> if you have any questions/comments/suggestions feel free to ask away


	4. Electric Love ( BORNS, Dopamine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael takes a road trip and does some intospection

Michael was feeling a lot of things as Mr Heere put the car in reverse and backed out of Michaels driveway while simultaneously backing out of everything Michael had ever known, every lesson, every cuddle with his mothers, every bad day were being, both literally and metaphorically, left behind.

 

A comprehensive list of things Michael was feeling at this moment:

  * Michael felt upset. He missed his mothers. Missed their hugs and kisses and gentle reminders to clean his room. Missed their idle chatter and soft kisses on his head.
  * He felt confused. Every time he thought of a question 100 more spawned off it like an endless mind map of “what the fuck” because what the fuck! He honestly hadn’t even really began to process that yep, he was definitely leaving his house for god knows how long. He didn’t know when he would be back. He didn’t know IF he would be back.
  * And that lead to fear
  * Michael was afraid for a lot of reasons. He was leaving behind everything that had felt like home. He was about to be thrust into a world he knew nothing about. The only things he had with him were the bags in the back of the car with as many of his possessions as he could shove in and the clothes on his back. No extra batteries. No fridge stocked with food. No seven eleven. Michael had had his world tipped upside down and he wasn’t sure if he was going to like it.
  * He had watched a documentary a while ago about phobias. Mostly normal shit like spiders and clowns and evil supercomputers. But he was being reminded of an eleven-year-old the show had focused on for a while. What was her name? like Millie or something? Mindy? Yeah Mindy sounded about right. Point being that this little kid was absolutely terrified of the unknown. A lot of weight on the shoulders of an eleven-year-old
  * But in that moment Michael understood her.
  * The last tiny thing Michael felt. Was very small thing. A tiny little ray of hope shone at the back of his heart. Because he sure as hell knew he couldn’t conquer this alone, but Michael was going to have Jeremy at his side. And with Jeremy, Michael was pretty sure he could do anything he set his mind to.



 

Mr Heere slotted a beat-up cassette into the slot and queen began playing over the cars banging old speakers on top volume.

Michael chuckled and joined in the horrible rendition of bohemian rhapsody.

Mr Heere had been in Michaels life for as long as he could remember. One of the side effects when you can’t resist doing anything your best friend asks for is you end up staying at their house.  
Kind of a lot.  
In that time Michael had grown comfortable with Mr Heere. He was the first adult Michael had come out to (the first person was Jeremy of course) and Michael was pretty sure he trusted Mr Heere as much as he trusted his mothers. If not more so. There was something about Mr Heere’s smile that made Michael feel like he could tell or ask him anything. No matter how strange. And that was a feeling Michael liked a lot – to just be completely open with someone, both equally and utterly trusted and trusting. Michael could be like that with a grand total of 3 people (none of which were his mother’s because as much as he loved them, if his parents knew everything about his life he didn't think he could cope);  
those people were:  
1) Mr Heere  
2) One random guy he had met at spencers when stoned who he ended up telling his life story too  
and  
3) Jeremy.

Michael kept badly singing Queen, but his attention turned to his blue eyed best friend.

Jeremy.

It had been a fortnight, but Michael missed him a stupid amount.  
Kind of the problem with having one friend.  
Still if that one friend was Jeremy, then Michael didn’t care. Michael would cut of all human contact forever if it meant he could still talk with Jeremy.  
Because Michael could be _normal_ with Jeremy. He could say exactly what was on his mind and it would feel fine, great even. He thought he knew everything about Jeremy, or at least as much as you can know about someone. He knew the exact way Jeremy's hair would curl when he slept on it funny. He knew what Jeremy's favorite breakfast was (warm pikelets with chocolate syrup and a tall glass of milk) he knew what to say to cheer Jeremy up if Jeremy felt down (majority of the time at least). Michaels idea of a perfect afternoon was just lying on Jeremy's grey carpeted floor listening to him talk about, about anything at all! Just being in his company made Michael feel safe and warm and needed  
and that feeling was exclusive to Jeremy and Jeremy alone.  
God, Michael couldn’t wait to see him again.

“whatcha thinking about son” said Mr Heere, keeping his eyes on the highway. And Michael started because holy crap they were like an hour out of town. Jeremy had taken full control of his mind for 45 minutes.

“Jeremy” Michael said.

Wait no that sounded _really_ creepy. 

“I –UH That’s not what I meant!” Michael hurried to explain himself. But he didn’t have an explanation. What he was doing was just that. Thinking about Jeremy

He looked over to see Mr Heere smiling and facing the road. One eyebrow raised.

“One day kiddo, you’re gonna realise something. And its gonna rock your world, I’m telling you now. And when that realisation happens – you’ll know when it does. When that realisation happens, I want you to remember this: Jeremy would’ve answered my question just now the exact same way you did.”

Michael sat back in his seat

“Mr Heere that was _unbelievably_ cryptic”

“yes, it was”

“are you gonna talk more about it or-“

“nope”

“alright then”

 

They drove on in comfortable silence. The unending stream of cars down the highway, moving endlessly through the front windscreen. Peppered by the honking of horns and the familiar buzz of dozens of motors. They were approaching the outskirts of New York now and Michael could see the outlines of city skyscrapers against the grey morning sky.  
The weather was gloomy and he could see rain falling in the distance.

Michael loved the rain.

He didn’t understand the negative connotation that came with it. The rain had a personality. It could be intense and endearing or calm and soft. It could give strong people fear and weak people comfort. It meant a different thing to everyone. The rain gave life to all it touched, plants, animals, humans. All needed water to survive.  
To Michael the rain was the very symbol of new life. The symbol of hope. A sign that everything was going to be okay. It reminded him of -  
Jeremy.  
And here he was, back at Jeremy again

Time ticked on

Mr Heere turned on the window wipers as thick droplets began to fall on the windshield.  
Michael leaned back on the window, the glass feeling comfortably cool on the side of his head. He retreated into his own mind. Daydreaming about the feel of his mothers’ shirt as she lay next to him watching a Disney movie when he was very young; one hand in his and the other is his other mothers lap. He thought back to when Mr Heere had driven both him and Jeremy to a county fair. Jeremy had cried when he couldn’t go into the mirror maze because ‘he wanted to see the star lights’ so when they got home Michael had built Jeremy the biggest fort he could with his small body and moved every portable light he owned in there so Jeremy could have ‘his own galaxy room’. Michael thought back to a forgotten moment of when he was vey small. A man was walking out his door way. He looked back at Michael and stared him right in the eyes. Even from his memory he could still feel the powerful warmth behind them. Michael was beginning to get tired - he felt his eyes grow heavy as he felt the low rumble of the motor and the faint pattering of the rain  
until suddenly the rain wasn't quiet anymore.  
it was loud and then.

  _He began to move forward, his hands engulfed in thick streams of fire as the rain bucketed down over his head and the storm raged around him. The sleeves of his hoodie were smoldering, and Michael pulled up both sides with his teeth to stop the red thing exploding into flame around him. He moved toward the cottage through the forest, head turned back by the force of the storm. The rain sizzled as it dropped around his hands – the thick reflective droplets evaporating into air as he kept up his pace. He didn’t have long to walk, only 100_ _meters or so. But every step he took felt like an extraneous effort by the sheer force of the wind. He could feel water being blown against his face. Smell the salt of the sea mixed with the thick fresh smell of the storm and the scent of pine needles from the forest around him. He could see the trees swaying dangerously – tossed by the wind. And yet, the cottage looked calm. Too calm for this weather. Michael notices that whatever effect the gale was having out here; it didn’t get close to the cottage. It was as if it had been enclosed by a bubble, sealed off from the outside world. something was off about the light emitting from the windows as well. It glowed a dusk pink – comforting – like the colour of the dawn just before the sun pokes up over the horizon. The shift from night to day. Yet it was behaving in a way that light just shouldn’t behave. It twisted and turned in constant motion, tendrils of light curling from window and the door frame and even out the chimney. It reminded him of the joint he had been smoking before.  
Except the smoke from his cigarette had been pulled around by the air in his room, the air had made his smoke move._

_The light from the cottage was moving the air around it instead._

_Michael could see the light from the cottage hum and pulse and he wanted to see it up close. Needed to see it up close. He walked with more purpose._ _Not long now, only 50 metres or so.  
Then, over the howl of the wind in the trees and the breaking of a sea shore and the hum of noises made by the thunderstorm all being mixed into one squall of racket he heard a faint – noise, a small sound that was oddly familiar. a soft tune; a voice?_

_Someone far away was singing._

“Michael. Michael!” Michael groaned as he was awakened from his dream. Dreams like this were normal for him, startlingly vivid and oddly realistic. But he had never been one for waking up quickly

“get on up son” the voice of Jeremy's Dad was calm but firm

“we’re here”

Jeremy's dad had pulled over the car in the middle of a pine forest. Michael could smell the sea faintly far away. The place looked – oddly familiar.

The road was dirty (it was literally a dirt road) but was well worn. Michael followed the road forward with his eyes. It and lead to an archway made of thick, crumbling lime stone seemingly in the middle of absolute nowhere. The rock had been chilled into and rusted copper filled the hollowed-out spaces to read, in big bold letters:

CAMP HALFBLOOD.

Michael could see nothing beyond that archway but more trees, and forest. A clear dead end.

“uh – Mr Heere are you sure this is right” Michael asked, one eyebrow raised. He turned around to see Mr Heere holding the lighter of Michael’s bags out to him. “yep”

“there is literally nothing there”

Mr Heere chuckled and smiled warmly.

“look kiddo. Walk through the arch. If you still think that after you’ve gone through, we can turn around and go straight home. Promise”

“alrighty then” said Michael dubiously. He slung his bag over one shoulder, took a deep breath

and strode through the arch.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that dream sequence getting wild eh
> 
> okay I need to study I have 3 tests tomorrow and I haven't started
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed!


	5. 1955 ( Hilltop Hoods, Drinking Under the Sun, Sleeping Under the Stars Restrung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael takes a stroll down a hill and questions Mr Heere's past

 

He was vaguely aware of his bag hitting the ground

Holy shit

Everything behind him was completely and unsurprisingly the same. The same pine forest, crumpled leaves covering the dirt road, Mr Heere leaning on his red Honda Civic - Michaels other bag slung over one shoulder and a shit eating grin on his face.

But in front of him

What had been dirty forest a moment before was now a downward sloping polished path that led to a natural hollow between the hills - like the earth was a melty tub of icecream and someone had gently scooped out the top layer. A wall of pine forest and trees surrounded a cleared space in the middle, marked off by a stone fence. Michael gasped then because he could see

People  
People milling around the huge clearing, so far away that they looked like neon orange ants  
But still  
People

And buildings - heaps of buildings! Roughly all the same size but in dozens of different colours - some shined and reflected the light. Others seemed to pull it in. others were painted heaps of different colours! It looked sweet, cute even! There was a big ranch style building at one and, a classical style pavilion on the other side. Holy shit was that a fucking volcano? Rockwall? Rockcano? (Michael decided that he was spending too much time on this part of the camp, so he moved on hoping to make a final judgment later). At the crest of the hill on the opposite side of the valley stood dozens of small, old, Greek style white buildings - dappling the side of the hill like Christmas lights nestled among pine trees, overlooking the stormy grey sea.  
Michael couldn't feel the rain on his skin anymore, All his mind had room for was how beautiful how this place, amazing, incredible.

Magical

Because what else could this place be? He had taken one step through an arch, expecting to walk through into more of the same pine forest around him - not an unreasonable expectation in fairness. He had stepped out - looking forward at the forest in front of him. That was normal.

Except

Suddenly it wasn’t normal

Because it wasn’t the same scene that had been there a second ago

The only way that made sense logically was that it was magic.

Michael knew he had probably experienced more magical seeming stuff. The snake woman, his hands bursting into flames, Jeremy Heere’s insatiable sex drive to name a few.  
But this was the first time that Michaels brain didn’t subconsciously out right reject the notion. Because Michael didn’t really, deep down really, consider that magic was a possibility.  
Except that - just like Michael transitioning from one side of the arch to the other - it just inexplicably made complete sense to his mind. And, Just like that. Holy shit. Magic was real. Huh.  
And that thought unlocked something deep inside him. Something he had been ingrained to just push down and reject. Because if magic could be possible - like really possible - could it be that maybe,

 

there was magic inside of him?

 

He was interrupted by Mr Heere tripping over a small dying leaf and catching Michael’s shoulder to stop his fall.  
“It’s pretty ‘off dah hook’ huh?!” he beamed, looking over the valley wistfully  
“Did you just say...off the hook?” Michael said the phrase like it was a slug he had found on his dinner plate.  
“Yeah! Isn’t that what the kids say nowadays?!” Mr Heere accompanied this statement with an admirable but appalling attempt at a whip.

Michael looked at him with genuine pain in his eyes

“Yeah?!” said Mr Heere - nodding his head at Michael, looking for his approval  
“A - You know what. Yeah. Sure Mr Heere”  
Mr Heere looked very happy with that.

They set off down the hill and Michael refocused his thoughts. As he strolled the clean polished path (quite in contrast to the gloomy dirt road he had just been on) he turned his attention back to the camp below him.  
  


Something to be said about Michael was that he normally wasn’t one for more social contact then he needed. It was like an HP bar; except that a hit was a social interaction and instead of fucking dying when the bar ran out, Michael just couldn't function like a human being. Well that wasn’t exactly true. He was always down for contact with certain people - well okay only one person, But Michael wasn’t sure if that counted because he was pretty sure he didn’t have a social HP bar for Jer being around. Rather than being draining Jeremy actually boosted how social Michael could be, kinda like a potion in WoW or a cherry in Pacman.  
But in majority of cases he preferred his own company

However.

Michael really, really liked trying new shit.  
Whether that was some sick vintage game he and Jer had come across, or a gnarly soda from the nineties, or escargot, or - you know - strolling into a camp filled with teenagers junked up on immortal genes.  
And for a combination of reasons he was struggling to make sense of, Michael was really fucking excited.  
More excited he had been for anything in a long time  
Maybe it was the boss ass looking lava wall? Or the aesthetic looking strawberry fields. Maybe he could meet more people - people that might like him! Or at least not hate him! (he just hoped they weren't like the kids at Middleborough, sheesh) and maybe, the thought that excited him the most was that he got to do all of this stuff with Jeremy by his side.

It was kind of a new feeling as well though. Because this excitement literally tingled him in his bones, it made his toes curl and his eyes go wide and every fibre in his very being kind of stand on end with the internal equivalent of an upward fist pump.  
Maybe it was the lack of restraint on himself or the utter craziness of the past couple of days, but Michael only realized he was smoldering when Mr Heere had yelped loudly and immediately stuck his burnt finger into his mouth.

“Jeesh kiwwo! bwe carefwal!” said Mr Heere. Finger still glued between his lips  
“Ah, fuck! Sorry!”  
Mr Heere raised an eyebrow “Languish!”  
“Oh, uh - double sorry!” Michael said hurriedly “impulse?”  
Mr Heere pulled his finger out of this mouth and shook it up and down vigorously  
“It’s all right Michael, don’t look so nervous! It’s not that bad.” Mr Heere said, still shaking his finger.  
Michael frowned “if you say so..” 

They strode down the hill in comfortable silence - Mr Heere quietly humming something and Michael being left with his thoughts for only a little while longer. He cast his mind back. The more he looked around the more similar this place seemed to the forest from his dream  
S _imilar but not the same_ , Michael thought.  
The forest here was lusher - less grown in then the tall pines from his dream. He had seen rocks out to sea in the storm but looking over the ocean all he could see was crystal clear water.

Interesting

He noticed an emptiness beside him and looked up to see Mr Heere holding back.  
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked  
Mr Heere looked down, another level of that all-knowing sadness in his eyes  
“This is where I say goodbye son”  
Michael was surprised but not as shocked as he should've felt. Something had told him this might happen - he wasn't sure quite what.  
“Look kiddo; when I left here for the first time...” Mr Heere took a shaky breath “It, well it wasn't on good terms. I didn’t belong here for a whole set of different reasons. Reasons I don’t want to burden you with just yet. I had to figure out where I fit into this whole fabric of reality and I wasn’t sure where that was. In the process I - I hurt a lot of people Michael. Not just in the mental sense. One day I hope to be able to face that music, but that day hasn’t come yet.”  
Michael could tell that coming this far must have been a big step for him. It was kind of a shitty move that he was gonna ditch him, but Michael thought he could excuse that seeing as the man had literally saved his life yesterday. Mr Heere had put himself at risk to help Michael out of nothing else, but kindness and Michael decided that pushing that would be not the right thing to do.

Michael didn’t know what to say, so he just stepped forward and gave Mr Heere a soft squeeze, trying to convey all his gratitude, all his admiration and all his respect into Mr Heere. He pretended that Mr Heere was one of his old consoles that had been pushed too hard. It didn’t need to be fixed - just some of the wires had to be repaired.  
He found himself crying into Mr Heere’s green jacket - not heavily mind you - but still he cried.

When the hug pulled away Michael looked into the old man’s eyes and smiled.

“Say hi to my mums for me”  
“Only if you say hi to my son for me”

They shook hands, and something passed between them. A silent agreement. A promise to protect the people they held dearest.  
And then Michael slid his headphones over his ears and Mr Heere turned around and began to walk back up the hill toward his red Honda Civic and back to the life Michael was bidding farewell to.

 

Michael watched him all the way up the hill.

 

He didn't notice the winged horse until it was right behind him

 

He whipped around when he heard a hard noise of something smacking against the ground, and there stood the creature, beating it vaguely chicken like chestnut wings, whinnying as it kicked its hooves back and forth - trying to steady itself into the landing in a playful way. As its wings folded he noticed that a small girl was perched atop the horse, trying her best to reign it into the rushed landing and failing to maintain her dignity while doing so. Michael stepped back and a split second later the girl was standing up to him and an arrow was shoved into his face.

“What the fuck!” he screamed, eyes squinted up at the bronze arrow tip.  
“State your name and business” the little girl said ferociously - looking toward him.  
“Shit - uh - Michael! Michael Mell!” the girl peered down at him suspiciously. “I’m here because a snake lady tried to fucking kill me!”  
“Oh! Excuse me!” the girl instantly lowered the arrow, slung the bow over her shoulder and reached out her hand. Michael took it, not quite sure what was going on. The girl was surprisingly strong, her multi colored fingernails were bitten Michael noticed, and any trace of menace had been replaced by excitement and smiles.

As Michael was pulled to his feet in a daze the girl stuck her hand out and beamed at him.

 

“Pleased to meet you Michael Mell! I’m Christine Canigula, Daughter of Apollo”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOWZER HUH  
> I promise we're gonna see jer again soon!  
> if anyone is interested in seeing some of the kids powers or some headcanons for this au flick me a message at @plasticbattleaxe on tumblr or leave a comment and ill attempt to answer!  
> next chapter should be within the week  
> thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! it never goes unoticed  
> anyway i gotta yeet so hope y'all enjoyed


	6. New Romantics ( Taylor Swift, 1989)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael learns more about camp and meets some important adults

 

Michael had decided he really quite liked Christine.

He had been in her company for only a few minutes and he already knew her favourite food (MnMs but not the orange ones) her best friends and their hobbies ( Alana and Katie - they liked reading and drawing respectively) He had learned about her family (she was a second generation Asian American) and a lot of what she liked to do in her spare time, which Michael picked up, came a lot from her godly heritage. Christine loved to read stories and act in plays because - in her own words - she could “actually see the stories happening in front of her!”. She liked to sing - but apparently had been banned from doing that because she got so passionate about what she was singing she made other campers “maybe lose control of their own bodies a bit”. Normally Michael would find this sort of interaction completely and utterly draining, but he found himself getting into what she was saying, emerged in her voice in a comfortable and easy way. Despite the fact she had just shoved an arrow in his face.

“What’s with that thing?” Michael asked, pointing at the wooden object slung over the small girl’s frame.

“Oh! This is my bow!” her curly pigtails bobbed as she talked “her name is Alexia, but she prefers Alex - Alexia is a bit too feminine for her”

Michael found himself wondering if she made this up or the bow could literally talk to her. He decided that it probably couldn’t - but he wasn’t sure

“So, everyone here just carries weapons around?”

“Yeah! We’ll take you to the Armory afterward and help you choose one. You never know when a monster is gonna spring up! Well, they can’t actually spring up because of Thalia’s pine tree. But that’s another story. Besides, it helps to have your stuff with you, so you don’t come late to training. Which reminds me, last week I…”

He was so engrossed in his conversation with her that before he knew it he was walking up the stairs to the ranch - the ‘Bighouse’ as Christine called it, and was being given a rundown of what was about to happen.

“Okay, so, normally there’s Mr D here but he made an attempt to clear up his daddy issues so now he’s on Olympian parole. Not that it will last. You can’t be the god of sexual deviancy without breaking some rules every now and then. He should really be more careful obtaining consent, I worry about that sometimes.”

Michael interrupted her just as she took a deep breath to continue her tangent

“Wait, Mr D or whatever is a god? Like an actual god?”

“OH!” Christine tapped the side of her head “sorry, I keep forgetting you’re completely new to this! I grew up knowing all about it, sorry if I’m assuming anything! I don’t mean too! It just happens when I meet new people. Am I rambling? I feel like I’m rambling. It’s an ADD thing. Most campers have a mild case of it - something about being hardwired for ancient Greek. I got a pretty bad case of it though. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Mr D! So, Mr D is Dionysus the god of wine! He’s meant to live up on Olympus above the empire state building with the rest of the gods, but he manages to piss just about everyone off by sleeping around. Which again is the problem with being the god of sexual deviancy.”

Michael felt like he had done a pretty good job of staying on top of that surprisingly enough. minus the bit about the empire state building, that had fucked him up a bit, but he decided to let it slide in favor for kind of prepping for what was to come.

“Then there’s Chiron! He’s like. The boss of camp, he’s nice though he’s super calm all the time. Maybe wise is the better word. It sounds a bit weird though. Oh well wise is more accurate. He’s super cool - he will probably give you a better rundown of what’s going on here, make you less confused. He’s also the Chiron from all the Greek myths and if you know anything about those you know he’s a centaur.

“What!”

“It means he’s half horse.”

“Christine that’s not what I meant!”

“I know” she giggled, and she glowed from sunlight. That was weird because it was pretty overcast. Which meant that her shining like a sunbeam was. Not possible.  
“Uh Christine”

“Yes, Michael?”

“Do you normally like” he paused “Glow?”

Christine looked down her body and rocked back on her combat boots

“Sometimes! If I’m having a lot of fun I glow - part of being a daughter of the sun god”

“All good - just checking you weren’t like radioactive or something”

“I hope I’m not. Then I couldn’t hang out with you. Or anyone. That would suck cause you’re pretty cool”

Christine knocked at the wooden door to the big house and stood back

“OH! and Michael. There's one more person here. He’s pretty new, his name i-”

The door was flung open and I man stepped out, hands splayed, and feet spread apart. He was about the same age as Jeremy’s dad and his scrawny frame seemed to be bursting with so much energy Michael felt like he had to blink every 3 seconds to actually look at him properly.

“What brings thy here on this wet afternoon?” the man pushed his hand back against his head dramatically, flicking his black curly hair away from his face.

“Uhhhhhh” Michael literally had no idea what to do. He hoped Christine could handle it. But she looked just as confused as he did.

“Mr Reyes; I’m Christine Canigula and this is our newest camp member Michael Mell. He arrived around 10 minu - Mr Reyes?

Mr Reyes had frozen in his previous position, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and his hand pushed back against his head. There was a second of awkward silence.

“Continue your line child” Mr Reyes whispered, unmoving.

“Uh, right okay.” Christine shifted uncomfortably “well as I was saying; this is Michael, and would you mind taking him to the basement for camp welcome video?”

Mr Reyes suddenly leaned against the door frame, slouched over and mimed chewing gum.

“Sure thing gal” he flicked finger guns at her

Michael looked at Christine and mouthed ‘what the fuck’ at her

She shrugged

Mr Reyes switched positions again, bowing deeply and extending his hand, offering Michael entry to the room inside the ranch.

Michael stepped forward, and with a nervous wave to Christine, he stepped into the unknown.

 

As soon as the door slammed behind him Mr Reyes dropped the butler position and began to bow maniacally. “Good show!” he yelled.

Michael stood there.

 

This man was literally BY FAR the weirdest thing that had happened over the last 2 days.

 

“That’s quite enough now Mr Reyes.”

An older man in a wheelchair rounded the corner of the corridor, a tired look on his face

“Chiron! Will you at least admit my performance was exemplary!”

“Yes, yes run along now, I think I heard a theatre production cast call announced in the mess hall”

“ooooH goodie!” and with that, the small man disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The man in the wheelchair sighed deeply and pulled up a couple of meters from Michael.

“I’m sorry about him. He only recently became a muse. He’s very excited about his new position to say the least.”

the only experience Michael had had with muses was the Disney film Hercules and The literature class he had accidentally fallen asleep during in freshman year (it had earned him a detention, the first of three total) and neither of those had struck him similar to whatever THAT was.

“You must be Michael” the old man held up his hand to stop Michael's question “I have my ways”

“And you’re Chiron? Christine said you were half horse?”  
 Michael realized that that could have possibly been rude - maybe it was? He wasn’t quite sure about formalities when meeting a potential centaur.

“I am, as the wonderful Christine said, half horse. I do find it difficult to walk around the Bighouse in my natural form. Thus” the man patted his seat “the chair”

“Is it like, uncomfortable?” Michael asked

Chiron shook his head and smiled “no it isn’t, it just takes some getting used to. Much like your entry to this side of reality, I imagine:”

Michael thought back to the snake woman “Yeah you could say that”

“Our projector is broken, unfortunately. I’ll get one of the Hephaestus cabin members to fix it, but until then we’ll just to do it the old-fashioned way.” Chiron gave a knowing smile at Him

“Follow me”

Chiron led them to the left side of the entrance, into a long, medium-sized room with large windows overlooking a section of woods divided by a small creek running through the middle. He could see campers milling around the bubbling stream despite the drizzle of rain, not too far away from where they stood (or sat in Chiron’s case) they ran past the water, chatted to each other. Fooled around like kids. Michael wondered if that would still be possible for him after everything he learned over the past couple of days.

“Take a seat Michael” Chiron gestured to a faded, floral patterned looking chair.

Michael sat

“Well Michael, I can imagine you're pretty confused about all this.”

“I mean I was more confused this morning”

Chiron gave him a quizzical look “what do you mean by that”

Michael remembered Mr Heere’s face just before he had left him on the hill. Mr Heere didn't want to be mentioned in this place. Not yet at least. Michael owed him that much.

“I uh, A family friend dropped me off after rescuing me from a snake woman, he did tell me its actual name but I completely forgot its -  well its actual name. He explained a lot of stuff about this whole god thing. My base knowledge of Greek myths is, pretty whack though, I don’t know much.”  

Chiron didn’t press who had brought him here and Michael breathed a sigh of relief (in his head mind you, a random sigh probably would’ve been odd)

“What do you mean saved you”

“Well-” Michael explained the events of the last two days, carefully excluding any links to Mr Heere’s name. He told Chiron about the snake woman, about his rescue (not his rescuer) and the subsequent conversation. He wanted to mention Jeremy but thought by doing so he might accidentally bring up his dad, so he stayed away from him. He talked about the drive down and crossing over the barrier into camp, and about meeting Christine.

“And now I’m here” he finished.

Chiron nodded, none of this seemed to shock him.

“I’m not sure about you Michael, but a lot of our camper’s home lives are. Well they probably could have been better. But this step in our introduction is necessary to ensuring you get placed in a cabin as soon as possible; what is your family like, do you have a parent or any siblings?”

‘Weird question’, thought Michael but he answered anyway.

“No, I don’t have siblings. After my dad left my mum got remarried”

“Do you love your stepfather”

“Stepmother.” Michael waited for the reaction nervously.

“Do you love your stepmother” Chiron corrected himself, his tone didn’t change.

Michael instantly trusted him 100 times more.

“Yes”

“Do you love your mother”

“Yes”

“Do or did you know your father”

“Very, very faintly” Michael took a deep breath “he left when I was young, like two years old. I have this memory of someone stepping out my door, I could hear my mom crying and the tv on behind me and this man standing in our door frame waving at me.” Michael sighed

he thought about that moment a lot

Chiron pulled him out the nostalgia.

“Well Michael this is where we’re going to go from here - the time is 4pm. Not the best time for a tour especially is this weather. I’ll call up Christine to take you past the Armory and then take you down to the Hermes cabin. Do you know who Hermes is?”

“No”

“Hermes is the god of trade, thievery and travel. All our campers who haven’t yet been claimed go past the Hermes cabin until they are.”

“Claimed?”

“Being claimed is part of the whole demigod package, hopefully within the next couple of weeks, your father will send down a sign that you are his child. When that happens, you move to that cabin. Even if we are fairly sure of anyone's godly heritage, we do not move them to that cabin until we are sure. Once Christine takes you there unpack into one of the bunks and try and settle in. Dinner starts at 7 tonight and we should have a timetable made up for you by next week until then try and make some friends and tag along to any activity you feel like. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds great” Michael was too tired to think of anything else

“Excellent, I’ll Iris message Christine now, hang tight.”

And with that Chiron wheeled off.

Michael looked out the large windows, the rain was getting harder now and most of the people by the stream had walked off. Now only 2 boys remained, sparring in the grass next to the forest. Michael leaned in and let his gay take over.  
The first boy was tall with brown hair in a stylish cut, scruffy jeans, a striped muscle tee covered by a red jacket. He was tan and holy shit he was RIPPED god damn. The boy smiled as he fought, long golden sword parrying and jabbing back and forth. Even from this far away Michael could tell that boy was built almost too perfect to be real.

The second boy was way shorter, but still just as ripped. He had long baggy cargo pants, a blue tank top with nothing protecting his arms. He fought with a spear, whipping it round against the taller boy. He had a thick streak of red going through his spiky blond hair. While the first boy had given off a ‘too cool to be real’ vibe this kid was different. He was just as smiley, but Michael got a bad vibe just from looking at him, it made him angry and scared. Nope that kid was good eye candy, but Michael found himself not being able to look at him for too long.

He was jolted by a knock at the door. Christine stood there, absolutely soaked, wet hair dangling just onto her shoulders, her orange t-shirt sticking to her tiny frame and a smile as bright as the sun beaming into the room. Next to her stood Chiron, a grin on his face.

“Ready to head to the Armory?”

Michael stood up off the chair “Ready as I’ll ever be”

“Goodbye Michael, and welcome to camp half-blood” and with a ruffle of Christine's soaking head, the wheelchair-bound man was gone.

They pushed open the doors of the Bighouse together

Michael threw up his hood to protect his head and headphones from the pouring rain and then, with a deep breath, followed Christine onto the path toward the Armory.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more FUN FAQ  
> this au is happening around the same time as the second heroes of olympus book probs  
> we just saw some more of the squip squad  
> "where is jeremy" you ask, i came here for shipping content!." "he's coming soon" tears are running down my face, my fingers furiously typing to try and reveal our faves whereabouts
> 
> so yeah im done
> 
> also this chapter is legot 2500 words this is some mcfreaking dedication
> 
> thanks to @whitequail for being the only person who cares about this story ily godamN"
> 
> anyways hmu with that gooood shit kudos and comments hell yeah


	7. Control ( Halsey, Badlands)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael goes to the Hermes cabin and has a strange encounter with a magical weapon.

They walked up the hill toward the Armory, out the double doors of the bighouse, along the other side to which Michael had talked with Chiron. They followed the stone wall on a dirt track toward where the outer perimeter converged with the lush pine forest Michael had been looking at out the window. The heavy water beat down on them as Christine walked by his side, her bow still slung over one shoulder as they chatted. He had offered her his hoodie a while ago (he hated parting with it, but she looked really cold) and she had refused completely. Michael noticed she had swapped her brown leather combat boots for knee-high yellow wellingtons covered in random scribbles from multiple colored biros in different stages of newness.  
They suited her personality well, Michael decided.

The rain beat on them even harder, becoming the only sound other than their conversation. Christine didn’t rush for cover like the popular girls at Middleborough would have (shrieking and holding binders above perfectly curled ringlets just like _every_ fucking stereotype.). Michael admired that about Christine. She literally didn’t care how cold and wet she was getting, she just enjoyed herself. She splashed in puddles, jumping in between the pools of water tucked in the long grass and the mud on the path. Michael loved that she could just do whatever she felt like without caring about what anyone thought.  
He wished he could be like that.  
Hell, he wished Jeremy could be like that.

Holy shit Jeremy.

“Anyway, so like as you were saying, there isn’t really a way to fake your own death 100% convincingly-”

“Christine?”

“Yeah Michael”

“Do you know anyone here called Jeremy”

Christine thought for a second, pausing her erratic jumping between puddles

“No, I don’t think so”

“He arrived here about 2 weeks ago, lanky as anything, bright blue eyes, honeycomb brown colored curly hair, freckles, just shorter than me?”

Christine paused - clearly grasping at something, but every time she seemed to be ready to give an answer she stopped and looked confused before starting the whole process again.

“No, I, ugh I’m not sure? That sounds terrible because 90% of me is sure I have no idea who you could be talking about, but he also sounds really, really familiar”

That was. weird. Jeremy was new, surely, he had made _some_ impression, even if it was an awkward one.

“We’re here!”

They had arrived in front of a small white bunker, classical style (like most buildings in this place Michael was noticing), its roof extended about a meter out over the building itself offers a bit of protection from the rain. It was nestled just in between the start of the pine trees and the tallest point in the stone wall that surrounded the camp. The building was seemingly made of the same stone material as the perimeter, however, when they got close Michael released in was panels upon panels of thick white sheets of beaten metal. The doors were also the same metal, thick and painted a fading color of dark army green. In the center of the doors was a large panel which Christine pressed her palm against. The machine pulsed 3 times faintly while scanning her hand, then there was a faint click and the doors swung open.  
“That’s some pretty high tech?”

“Yeah, we need some strong safety precautions” Christine turned back around to talk to him properly. “in case a monster attacks or something we have to make sure only campers can get in, once you’ve got a weapon I’ll add your handprint to the database so you can get in here anytime you need.

They stepped inside, and Michael looked around

The room was filled from wall to wall of stacked and sorted weaponry. It looked like home depot but instead of machinery and shitty paint swatch cards there were Shelves upon shelves of swords, knives, spears and, were those guns? Fucking GUNS.  
“Everybody has to choose their own weapon, it’s kind of like a rite of passage. If it was me i’d advise you not to go to the weapon that looks the most powerful. Most of the time the campers that choose those end up switching in a week or so. You should try and choose a weapon that you feel will work best for you. If you have like ANY questions about them just ask me and I’ll try my best”

“Where should I start”

“Just start at one wall and go through I guess”

And so, he did

Michael started with the swords, he sifted through what felt like hundreds of them, trying to find something that didn’t feel so fucking big and heavy. He didn’t mind the feel it just, didn’t really feel right. And so he moved on to spears, then guns...  
He moved around, occasionally asking Christine about a certain weapon or picking one up but none of them felt right. At least not in the same way that Christine had talked about.  
When he got round to the last shelf he could feel himself deflating. It was like he had failed. He had come here to choose a weapon and he hadn’t managed to do even that. He was trying his best to do well for this place. If he was going to make a summer out of it he would have too. He just wanted to get something that felt like him. Something that he felt comfortable with. But he supposed today just wasn’t gonna be like that.

God fucking dammit

Just as he was turning to tell Christine he was going to start again. a glimmer caught his eye from the lowest shelf closest to the door, tucked almost out of sight.  
Trying to see what it was he reached his hand all the way to the back corner of the rack, carefully avoiding the multitude of knives and daggers stacked near his fingers. He felt his fingers clasp around a thick pole of warm leather and he pulled his hand back to reveal a short mallet-style hammer, the hilt bound with leather at the bottom that curled around the hilt and tied off at the seam of a squared piece of rusting bronze that served as a head. On the base of the hilt a glittering red stone was set into the old metal. On further inspection, Michael noticed a band of leather like a Nintendo controller strap tucked into the hilt; So Michael did what any video game junkie would’ve done. He put it onto his wrist and twirled the damn thing around his hand.

Once, twice, three times

 

And then a lot of things happened very quickly.

 

First, Christine gasped loudly, then Michael felt a warm rush running through his hand, up his arm and continuing like electricity through his whole body.  
And then the hammer  
The hammer did a bunch of different shit so fast he couldn’t see quite what was happening.  
It shrunk to the size of a sharpener, it elongated to three times its original size, It grew spikes at both ends, and the metal making up the sides of the head bloated in and out like a contact lenses, it turned electric green and then throbbed with golden light- becoming a _beautiful_ glimmering silver hammer in his hand for 3 or so seconds. Pulsing slightly and fitting itself perfectly into the crook of Michaels Grip.  
Then as soon as Michael thought it had settled, he heard a loud pop and the hammer shrunk, no, imploded in upon itself, folding down until it finally came to rest as a dull red Nintendo game boy, the B button faintly glowing gold for a couple of seconds before dying out completely.

 

And just like that, it was over.

There was a moment of silence

 

“You know what Christine”

“Yeah” the small girl was staring at the thing in his hands with a look of confused awe.

“I think I’m gonna go with this one”

“You know what Michael”

“Yeah”

“I think that’s a pretty good idea”

 

 

 

Just as Chiron had suggested, Christine put off a tour of camp, promising she would do it first thing tomorrow. The grounds were silent as they walked toward what Michael guessed must be the Hermes cabin. It was still bucketing with rain and Michael assumed most campers were stuck up in the cabins that littered the center of the camp. He had figured that these were the small multi-colored buildings he had seen from the top of the hill. Christine confirmed this when he asked.

“Yeah, most of the cabins are decorated in the style of the god they were made after. Hence why that one looks like an emo 13-year-old designed it and that one looks like a vegan cafe.”  
Michael giggled at that. For such a sweet kid, Michael was finding that Christine had a wicked sense of humor.

They crossed the grounds and laughed together, the wet grass squelching under Michaels' feet as he talked and kept a lookout for Jeremy. Unfortunately, he had only seen 2 people walking past; one girl in a blue sweater with short brown hair and long navy socks and a boy with long dark curls and a surly expression. Both had greeted Christine with a nod or wave but kept their distance. They had better places to be he guessed.

They finally reached a terracotta colored building supported with brown columns with white detailing. The triangle roof was decorated with a gold painted fresco of two intertwining snakes that curled around a pair of huge wings.  
It would've been impressive if it got a fresh coat of paint, But it looked more comforting this way Michael thought.  
He noticed his two bags stacked at the door (strangely, completely dry)

  
He followed Christine up the steps and she motioned him to stand behind her, away from the door.  
Confused Michael moved to where she pointed.  
“Hermes is the god of trickery, which means the literal god of pranks. Hence why,”  
Christine opened the door and a balloon filled with something hurtled out and exploded on the grass outside the cabin, bursting on impact and splattering blue paint everywhere within a 3-foot radius.

“...You never just open the door”

Michael gulped “good to know”

He picked up his bags and followed Christine inside into a short hallway leading a to a trio of doors held together in a small open room that doubled as a shrine to who he assumed was Hermes. Michael heard loud voices coming from one door and internally groaned. He HATED loud places.  
he stood to the side as Christine opened the door leading to the left, luckily no paint balloon this time. Michael followed Christine into the bustling room. It was a kitchen living room type of deal, a small stove, a fridge and a counter in the half of the room closest to him and a couple of couches around an ancient carpet in the other. Campers played cards at a round wooden table in the middle of the room, they crowded around monopoly on the floor, read and chatted in corners or even threw darts into a wall where a target had been drawn haphazardly with chalk.

Yeah, Michael wasn’t mcloving it just yet.

Christine yelled over all the voices at a pair of tall boys perched in the window frame in-between the kitchen counter and a bookshelf. They were excitedly talking and scribbling in a notebook.

“Connor! Travis! Where’s Jenna!”

“Why do you need her!” the slightly taller boy yelled back, freckled face in a happy, kind of tricky smirk. (In a situation where he hadn’t just held a magic hammer or talked to a centaur Michael would DEFINITELY be getting a hard-on for that smirk holy shit.)

“New Camper!” Christine pointed her thumb back at him and Michael gave a nervous wave.

“Guys, this is Michael, Michael meet Connor and Travis Stoll! Official Brothers and Unofficial gods of pranks!”

“Just making dad proud!” the other boy shouted back this time, he was slightly younger Michael noticed – he was definitely related to the first boy. they were almost identical.

“She’s in the games room! She hates rainy days cause of all the talking, makes her head get a bit too loud!”

“Thanks guys! Go back to planning!” Christine turned back to Michael with a wave to the brothers, Michael copied her action and the boys both gave cheerful smiles back.

They left the room and Michael shut the door behind them. His head was already pounding from all the noise. Fuck, this is why he hated social interaction.

Christine lead him to the door to the right of the corridor, opposite to where they had just been. Upon entering the room Michael was struck with how much quieter it was. There were only 4 people in this side of the cabin. The walls were covered end to end with wooden shelves holding thick books, board games, stationary, like 50 snow globes, a shoe, and a lot more random shit. A pool table lay dormant in the middle of the room. The bottom of one of the legs had been broken off and the table was being held level by 3 maths textbooks and the beat-up copy of the second harry potter book stacked haphazardly underneath it. Christine walked to the corner of the room where a tall chubby girl with long brown hair with a purple streak running through it sat reading from a scroll. What was weird about this scene was that behind the girl a thick violet book and pen were suspended in mid-air, scribbling ridiculously quickly. The girl wore industrial-grade noise canceling earmuffs and tapped her finger on the desk quietly - in complete concentration.

Christine walked over to the girl and shook her shoulder lightly. The girl looked up and Christine pointed back at Michael. The girl nodded and held out her hand to her side and with a loud thwack the book slammed shut and fell from mid-air into the girl's outstretched hand, the pen vanishing into thin air.

That got Michael pretttttty shook.

The girl followed Christine back into the corridor. Slipping her earmuffs back down and wincing at the sudden noise from the room next door.

“Hey Chris, who’s the newbie”

“Hey Jenna, sorry to interrupt. This is Michael Mell - he just came in. we grabbed him a weapon and I’m gonna take him on a tour tomorrow morning. He hasn’t been claimed yet which means he’s yours for now.” Christine turned back to Michael.

“Michael this is Jenna Rolan, daughter of Hermes. She’s also the head of the Hermes cabin so be nice to her”

“Whatsup dude” Jenna gave Michael a brief fist bump then turned back to Christine

“How’s archery going, any closer to rubbing Solace’s face in the dirt in a shoot off”

“Same old I’m afraid.” Christine sighed “I try my best at it! But my talents come more under the musical side of Apollo’s powers”   

“You’ll get there Chris I know you will”

“I hope so”

There was a moment of silence between the two girls which Michael couldn’t quite read

“Well I better go” Christine chirped “the whole cabin probably thinks I got swallowed by Mr Reyes at this point”

Jenna laughed a little.

“Go on then”

Christine high fived Jenna and then waved a little at Michael. She took three steps down the hall, stopped, changed her mind and then ran back to give him a tight squeeze. Michael returned the hug with gusto.

“Welcome to camp Michael” she whispered, looking up at him.

And then as soon as the hug had begun it was over and Christine was skipping back down the hall. “See you both at dinner!”

And just like that, she was gone.

Jenna looked Michael up and down and then reached out her hand, motioning to Michaels heavier bag. Gratefully he slung it off his shoulder and handed it to her.  
“Follow me kiddo” Jenna turned and walked through the middle door. This room was crammed with bunk beds. All made of wood and perched at various heights around the room.  
"So Uh…” Michael tried to think of something to talk about. “That book is pretty neat”  
“Hell yeah it is” Jenna actually smiled at him.  
Michael was both relieved and terrified to figure out she could actually do that with her face. He had known Jenna for about 45 seconds and he was already terrified of her. She didn’t look scary, at least not that much. But she _felt_ scary.  
“I had to do a lot of shit to get it. Made a deal with Athena. It took a long time and a lot of bargaining. Basically, I wanted something that would write down everything I hear and learn. I hear a lot of shit thanks to dad. Hermes is the trade and apparently, that means hearing what everyone is saying all the time. Well not everyone, but if there’s something whispered 2 doors away I can hear it. So, I wanted this book as like a bank for all the random secret stuff that came out of people’s mouths. Anyways I ended up swearing complete and total abstinence to Athena in return for this bad boy.” Jenna slapped the book with her free hand. “Worked out pretty well since I’m 100% aro/ace. She got punked big time there. It’s good to meet another gay here honestly. Don’t freak out kid I noticed the patch.”  
Michael stole a look at his left shoulder, flicking a glance at the rainbow patch he had sewed on freshman year

“Well it’s comforting to know I’m not alone.” Michael said awkwardly. He didn’t give a shit about talking about his sexuality, but he was still kinda scared of this girl.

“There are a couple of lgbt+ kids at camp, just none in my cabin.”  
They had walked to the back of the room and Jenna had stopped at the bunk bed furthest away from the door.

“You’re on the top bunk” said Jenna, arms folding in front of her chest.

Michael noticed a small bedside table next to the bed. On top of which were tissues, a small black notebook and

A Pacman plushie

 

The same Pacman plushie that Michael had won three years ago in the new arcade at the mall

 

And had given to a squealing, excited

 

Jeremy

 

“Hey, Jenna? Who’s on the bottom bunk here” he turned to her, much more interested and serious than a couple of seconds ago. He had to know where Jeremy was. Could he be here? In this cabin?  
“Oh, some new kid, he came a couple of weeks ago”  
“What’s his name?”  
“It’s, uhhhhhhh, fuck I should know this.”  
Jenna let go of the book. It instantly snapped open and floated to her eye level, Jenna frowned in concentration, shutting her eyes. The book skipped back at least 200 pages - which peculiarly didn’t even make a dent in how big it was. That book was magical, it couldn't possibly hold all the information it did while looking that small.

“ahh yeah here we go, his name is Jeremy”

 

Michaels' heart skipped a beat

 

“What else do you know about him”  
Jenna’s head furrowed again, and book tabs suddenly stuck at multiple pages. Jenna opened her eyes and frowned deeper.  
“There should be way more about him. My book literally records everything. I’ve known you for 5 minutes and it already has 3 pages filled about you. But I have like 5 sentences about him here. That's seriously odd.”

Michaels stomach sunk. Why didn’t anybody here know shit about Jeremy?

“Why, do you know him?”

Michael almost laughed. To ask if he knew Jeremy was like asking if birds had feathers or asking if Xbox was better than PlayStation.  
“Yeah you could say that”  
Jenna frowned. “You can bunk with someone else if you’d like”  
"NO- no. No thank you. It’s nice of you to offer”  
Jenna gave a smirk. “Ohhhh, so he’s like your” Jenna gave a hard wink at him “boy. friend.”  
“What! No, we aren’t! He’s my best friend! We’re not together!”  
Jenna held her hands up defensively “if you say so” she looked at her watch. “It’s an hour till dinner starts kid. You can unpack into the top drawer of that bedside table, but you’ll probably only have room for essentials in there. Otherwise just stick your bags under the bed. Hopefully, you’ll get claimed soon and you can unpack properly when you move out of here.”

“Sick, thanks” Michael nodded and smiled, but his thoughts remained on someone else entirely.

“If you don’t mind I’m gonna head back to my scroll. If you need anything just grab me.”

“See you Jenna”  
“Later kiddo”

And then she was gone.

Michael flopped over onto the lower bunk and breathed in into the pillow.  
He was smacked in the face by Jeremy’s smell.  
It was kind of like a mix of old clothes, fabric softener, fresh cookies and cold sprite. it was Michaels second favourite smell (the first was walking into a lush store because holy shit) he didn’t think anybody else gave this much of a fuck about how one person smelled because it was kind of creepy. But Jeremy’s scent was so unique to Jer that Michael hadn’t realised how much he had missed it the past couple of weeks. There was something inherently comfy about it, how natural and easy and _safe_ it made him feel. Michael let himself get lost in his thoughts, and felt his eyelids go heavy. The soft sound of the rain against the roof tiles guiding him into a (thankfully) dreamless snooze.

 

 

 

He was woken up by Jenna shaking his shoulder slightly, her book floating above her shoulder and her hair tied back into a messy bun. She gave him a wicked smile

“You sure this Jeremy kid isn’t your boyfriend”

Michael raised one eyebrow at her

“dude you’re literally drooling onto his pillow”

Michael looked down. She was right.

“yes, I am sure he is not my boyfriend”

“I’m just saying…”

Michael gave her a small smile and rolled his eyes at her before standing up. His stomach made a loud gurgling noise and Jenna snorted.

“C’mon kid it's dinner time.”

Michael followed Jenna out the cabin toward big open pavilion at the center of the camp. A large fire burned in the center of the building, it was surrounded by campers, milling around tables and eating with their friends. It smelt really fucking good.

Michael turned his thoughts back to Jeremy. Where the fuck was he? Why didn’t anybody know where he was? Or who he was? Michael hoped he would find him at dinner, the poor kid was thin enough.  
Michael found himself fiddling with the game boy in his pocket, turning it over and over in his hands. The rain had cleared up a bit and was now only a slight drizzle. He and Jenna walked in silence toward the pavilion. When they arrived at the building Jenna tapped his shoulder.

“I can’t be in here without my earmuffs on, follow me to the food table when you’re ready and then we’ll grab a seat with Christine hey?”

“sounds good” Michael gave her a weak smile and Jenna flicked her thumb up at him, sliding on her earmuffs.

Michael scanned the pavilion. Surely Jeremy must be somewhere around here. Jer tended to fade into the background, but Michael was used to that. He’d been scanning halls for Jeremy for as long as he could remember.

Just as Michael was about to give up and follow Jenna to the long table of food he heard a loud, angry yell from behind him. Everyone else in the dining hall was seemingly caught up in conversation and remained completely oblivious. Michael squinted back toward the cabins through his rain splattered glasses. He heard a second yell.

**“COME BACK HERE YOU FUCKING FREAK”**

Michael took a couple of steps toward the cabins and saw a figure running out of the forest. It was the short boy from before, the one with the red streak in his hair. He came tearing out the woods, in hot pursuit of something. The boy paused, then sprinted forward again toward a tall marble statue at the center of the cabins. Michael squinted and saw a scrawny figure pelting toward the food hall.

 

Michaels' eyes widened.

 

 

Jeremy Heere was running straight toward him – a look of absolute terror on his face.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE FAQQQQQQ  
> \- all the chapter names DO actually have something to do with each chapter! thi one is because jer was legit leaving a blank space in everyones memoryz  
> -why? youll have to find out ;)  
> \- the characters are not the same ages here as in the musical (mostly cause that probs isnt realistic in this univere chb has a lot of different kids  
> \- chris is 2 years younger than Michael (shes 15)  
> \- jenna is older (not sure by how much)  
> \- Rich is the same age  
> \- jake is a year younger  
> \- chloe is a year older  
> \- brooke is the same age  
> \- so is jer cause DUH  
> \- it was pointed out to me by the wonderful @Probably_an_idiot that in the pjo universe bad weather can't actually get into the camp. i will mention here that i completely forgot about this lmao. however i am going to say that because ive spent an unholy amount of time on this fic that this barrier was removed by chiron as it was fucking with the demeter kids and with the dryads.  
> \- the food that night was pasta night mikey WUD get some of that cush  
> \- michaels hammer has a name! it will probs get revealed next time no spoilers  
> \- connor and travis are in the OG series you FOOLS IT ISNT CONNOR MURPHY  
> \- although connor murphy is in this chapter if you squint hard enough  
> \- so is veronica sawyer
> 
> anyways this took ages and is 4000 WORDS Y'ALL BEST APPRECIATE  
> thanks to @linkyshow on tumblr for entertaining me while writing this and to everyone who left comments and kudos
> 
> next chapter should be up within the week
> 
> later fuckers


	8. The Run And Go (Twenty One Pilots, Vessel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael meets a potential enemy and learns that his combat skills need work.

The world turned to slow motion

Michael didn’t realize he was running until he felt the mud splashing against his jeans. He blocked out all noise around him. His vision blurred at the edges as he put his head down and moved his legs as fast as they would fucking go. His feet slammed against the wet grass, his shoes pushing into the soft dirt and propelling him forward. There was a roaring in his ears, a rush of air, as he sprinted through the rain. His brain only had room for one thing and that was Jeremy. Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy. Stopping this stranger from hurting Jeremy. Help Jeremy.

He looked up and then,

He was met by a tangle of limbs wrapped in a blue cardigan. A familiar turned head looking back at his chaser, (who was all too close) and still yelling; waving his spear with murder on his face.

And then suddenly, without quite realizing it Michael was reaching out and grasping at the speeding object, finally attaching himself to the thing hurtling forward. Grabbing his wrist and yanking the cardigan behind him;  
creating a block between Jeremy and this predator.

He was pretty sure the lanky boy made a surprised squeal, but Michaels' head was in protection mode. He didn't have time for distractions. Stage one was keeping Jeremy out of harm's way. Stage two would be to stop the hunter going after his best friend. Michael extended his right hand. 50% Chris Pratt Jurassic World and 50% Eleven Stranger Things. Calming yet assertive. He kept his other hand in his pocket wrapped tightly around the Gameboy, elbow outstretched like a protective chicken wing - trying to create as much of him in between the muscled boy in front of him and Jeremy behind him.

“WOAH, WOAH, HEY” Michael yelled. He squinted through his rain-flecked glasses at the boy with the spear in his hand. Michael became aware that it was only now that the kid had stopped running toward them. He now stood 3 or so meters from Michael. His spear pointed directly at forward and smiling like a panther who had just cornered something small and helpless.

Michael only realized the levity of how completely fucked he was when the boy looked up to reveal his eyes.

Oh _shit_.

The veins (or what he thought were veins, but they were straighter, less curved) around the guy’s eyes were glowing under his skin, streaks of red, blue and green illuminated around the two orbs in his skull. Fading off beneath his cheekbones, retreating into his face and concentrating around his iris’, which were pulsing an unnatural shade of indigo - like the light from the television screen in poltergeist.

Exactly like the skin underneath the snake woman's eyes.

If Michael didn't think something was wrong before, he sure as shit did now.

“Okay okay, let’s just take a second” Michael tried his best to sound assertive - calming. Like he was a bullfighter in that one documentary he had watched a while ago.

The boy with the red streak in his hair did not lower his spear. He smiled at Michael, baring his teeth at him that reminded Michael of a shark.

Michael did his best to sound like he didn’t want to run away as fast as he could “okay, okay, uh, let’s just take some deep breaths here.”

The boy with the red streak in his hair didn’t react to Michael's voice

“Look, uh, What do you want with my friend”

“We want you both.” the boy spoke like he was spitting poison. Michael didn’t let himself give way to fear, even though the kid in front of him had just spoken with the same voice as snake thot from yesterday.

Michael tried his best to keep his voice light and breezy. “Well, shit man I don’t know what to tell you-”

“Surrender yourselves and your deaths won’t be long”

Well fuck that was more intense then he’d been expecting.

“Dude, I don’t know who you are but let's just be reasonable he-”

“I will give you to the count of three”

“Woah! Wait a min”

“1”

“Why do you need us?”

“2”

“OKAY OKAY just DROP THE SPEAR AND WE’LL COME”

The boy with the red streak in his hair laughed with no emotion. He threw his spear to the ground and cracked his knuckles.

“Jeremy, whatever you do, stay behind me.” Michael whispered quietly.

“Micha? what-”

Michael launched himself forward.

Everything went to slow motion

He felt his hand clicking the A button on his game boy, praying it would do what it had done the Armory, he held it high above his head, saw the air around it tessellating into gleaming silver, felt the weight of it between his fingers.  
Michael kicked at the boy’s chest and sent him sprawling back, stopping himself just before he fell back completely. Michael swung his hammer. He had the element of surprise. He could do this!  
And then everything came back to normal speed as the boy with the glowing eyes grabbed his wrist.

Welp. there went his master plan.

The other boy shoved at Michaels' thumb, it made a scary crunch and Michael felt a shot of electric pain shoot up from his wrist, he knew the hammer had dropped to the floor. A fist connected to his face, Michael heard a loud crack and felt his glasses breaking over his nose, a scream from behind him. Another force hitting his cheek and he heard a roaring in his ears, static covering his vision. Another fist to his groin and Michael was on the ground. He tried to get up but was met by a force holding him down, pummelling him into the ground. He could taste blood, smell sweat. he couldn’t breathe. He could weakly hear laughing and sobbing not too far away from him and then

 

**_ “LEAVE HIM ALONE”  _ **

 

A wave rippled through the air, and Michael felt himself being pushed to the ground by an invisible force. A mix of anger and fear and love all mixed into one huge ball that pushed out from behind him, like the ripples from a boulder being pushed into water. It was, unstoppable, commanding, _irresistible_.  
Michael felt all weight release off his body and a loud howl to his left. He focused on trying to breathe for a minute - there wasn't room for much else - tried to be with his surroundings and block out everything else. He started on his heartbeat, pausing till it was somewhat regular - then to his breathing; Michael rolled onto his back to give his mouth better access to his lungs. He tried to use his senses - He felt water spraying onto his face from the sky above him, He opened one eye. Then the other. Then sat up and looked around.  
The first thing he noticed were the people, running from the pavilion, out of the woods toward them. They yelled at each other, panicked and rushing.  
Looking to his left he saw the boy with the red streak in his hair hunched over, covering his face. Michael didn’t feel too sorry for him. The boy’s whole body was convulsing and he was howling with agony, Limbs flailing. And Michael faintly heard something then, so quiet he could have imagined it, something ancient and terrifying coming from the pine trees. He was jerked from this thought by a small sob from behind him.

Michael turned.

 Jeremy Heere stood in all his scrawny glory, curls covering his face, flushed with anger and prickles of tears running down his face. One of his hands was extended and Michael saw the faintest glimmer of something twirling back into his wrist.

“Jer?” Michael croaked, still struggling to breathe after the assault to his stomach. He was definitely going to bruise.

“Micha!”

Jeremy leapt to his side, lowering his face over Michael, features riddled with concern. Michael looked up at him.

Jeremy’s honeycomb curls brushed the tips of Michaels nose and swished with the boys small shaky breaths, (he really needed a haircut) his face was strawberry (because of anger or tears or effort Michael didn’t know), his freckles standing out across the tip of his nose and his cheeks in harsh contrast to his red skin. His brow was furrowed in concern, stupidly long eyelashes dipping over baby blue eyes wide with shock. Michael could smell salt and could see the light tear stains coming down his cheeks.  
He hated it when Jeremy cried, not because he was a guy and ‘men shouldn't cry’ or whatever; he hated it because Jeremy deserved to be happy.  
Happy all the time.

Michael reached up with one shaking hand to wipe Jeremy's tears away.

“Hey dork” he whispered

“Hey Michael”

They could both faintly hear the boy who had beat Michael up still yowling to the left. Neither of them took notice. Both could hear the people gathering around them, rushing toward them. But it didn’t matter.

It was only seconds before everything went back to normal, but it could've been hours, days even. It felt to Michael like the world had stopped its rotation.

 

Because at that moment - for the first time in 2 weeks - Michael felt home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET SOMETHINGS UP  
> \- I MADE A REF FOR MICHAELS HAMMER!!! IT HAS EXCLUSIVE INFO ON IT FIND IT beloW  
> \- [CLICK ME THOTS](https://plasticbattleart.tumblr.com/post/173279914085/some-refs-for-that-uhhhhhhh-thing)  
> \- self promo? ABSOLOUTLY  
> \- this is,,,,,a lot shorter than i wanted it to be  
> \- BUT the second half of the next chapter is done so hopefully youll have that by monday?  
> \- JEREMY HEERE IS MY BOI  
> whats up with rich? where is everyone else? you'll have to see ;)  
> \- seriously tho most of them appear REALLY SOON  
> \- honestly my life is dictated by "what would jeremy do"  
> \- i hate exams wtf  
> \- also comment anything u want to see and if it fits with the story ill fit it in  
> \- "let jeremy speak!" someone from the back yells. everyone starts nodding with agreement. I lay further back on my red velvet recliner, laughing with no emotion. a single tear rolls down my cheek as i fade into the void, too ashamed at my own actions
> 
> later l00sers


	9. Lemonade (Jeremy Passion, For More Than A Feeling)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael meets a fellow stoner and begins to understand what it means to be a child of the love goddess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This starts directly after the last chapter so maybe reacquaint yourselves with that??

Because at that moment - for the first time in 2 weeks - Michael felt home.

 

And then something weird happened. He felt Jeremy’s reassuring weight next to him begin to rise. Not move, but physically rise into the air. And then there was music - like someone cranking the volume in his car. The sound of doves and harps and soft voices speaking in made up words all around him. Jeremy rose until he was a foot off the ground.

“Michael?!”

“Jeremy what the fuck?!”

Then Jeremy began to glow - a blush pink light seeping from beneath his skin, glaring through his eyes, his mouth, seeping through his hands. The sounds and whispers began to crescendo  
There were gasps from around him, and Michael realised how big of a crowd had gathered. Girls were pointing, boys snickered to each other. They had formed a circle around Jeremy, the yelling boy and Michael, who stood between them like a magical umpire to a game Jeremy was winning.

A warm breeze ruffled Michaels hair and the light around Jeremy pulsed - fading from scarlet to blinding white. The music crescendo and he closed his eyes, unable to stand the light any longer.

And then the music began to fade, and Michael looked up at Jeremy

 

 _Well fuck me dead_ Michael thought.

 

Jeremy - or what had been the Jeremy Michael was used to a couple of seconds ago - was now wearing a soft, long-sleeved, slightly baggy, cream white collared shirt. In un-Jeremy fashion, it had been left with 4 buttons undone (Jeremy only ever left one button undone, and that was on a good day) to reveal his pronounced collar bones and a sliver of his pale chest, dotted with patches of freckles. The shirt was tucked into what had been Jeremy's old baggy pants; which has now been replaced with ripped, tight, black jeans - scuffed in a ‘I just woke up like this except I definitely spent way too much money on these’ kind of way. Jer’s beat up chucks had been replaced with tan leather dress boots and he now wore a leather surfer dude kind of necklace - complete with a carved blue stone.  His hair had been cornrowed back with gold thread on one side of head, the rest of his (now effortlessly perfect) honeycomb curls were arranged just so and had grown half an inch or so longer (Michael took back what he said about Jeremy needing a haircut. He just needed to comb his hair) ; It reminded Michael of a shampoo commercial in a suave business district. Not much had changed on Jeremy's face, except an exceptional amount of acne (that Michael knew Jeremy despised) had been completely wiped from his skin. Looking closer Michael could also see a subtle gloss to Jeremy’s lips and a new thickness to his lashes. But apart from that, his face had remained untouched. He was still glowing, Michael realized. The same blush pink that looked so oddly familiar.  
he looked radiant.  
confident.  
_beautiful._

He heard a girl’s voice behind him. It was slightly shrill and commanding “Jenna, Christine! Stop panicking and get Chiron.”  
Her voice got slightly louder. “All Hail” she paused for a moment “all Hail Jerry? I think its Jerry. All hail Jerry; Son of Aphrodite. The lady of doves and the goddess of love yada yada”  
The campers around them all kneeled. Michael stood spellbound, looking at his best friend. Jeremy kept trying to button up the shirt, but every time he did they would just undo themselves again. In any other situation, Michael would have laughed. He didn't. He stood in the middle of the circle of campers and stared at Jeremy, mouth slightly agape. The only thing his mind could do was panic and try to reboot itself as fast as it could.

“Brooke, you take Pretty-Boy and Broken-Fuse to get some air and some nectar. I’ll take rich to the infirmary and see if anyone knows what’s wrong with him. Jake get everyone back to dinner and get Chiron to the infirmary when he gets down. Got it? Move out.”

Michael felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see a girl with cropped blonde hair and big eyes staring at him.

“Uh hi”

“Hello”

There was an awkward pause while she just looked up at him.  
Just as Michael was about to ask if she was okay she bolted upright and walked over to Jeremy, yanking him unceremoniously out of the air. The girl clamped around the sides of Jeremys shoulders and steered him toward Michael. Jeremy was staring at his hands disbelievingly. His fingernails were a shade of dark blue polish.  

The blonde girl deposited Jeremy next to Michael and then stood forward to look them both up and down. She looked kind of like a fairy, Michael noted.

“Hello”

“Hi” Jeremy’s voice was 3 octaves higher than usual. That could mean one of 2 things. He was nervous, or he was horny. Michaels bet was on the first (but honestly it could've been either). He decided to take his chances on that. He put one arm over Jer’s shoulder, trying to let him know he was here. That he was safe. To Michaels immense comfort he felt Jeremy tap his hand twice lightly; the sign the had made up sophomore year for ‘I’m okay’

The blonde girl abruptly spoke again, dragging Michael from his thoughts.

“Hello. Sorry I keep saying that. Hello. I’m Brooke. My mum is Demeter. I’m. a bit high right now. We’re gonna go take a walk to the fucking uhhhhhhhhh. Oh right, the bighouse.”  
“Did you just say you were high” Jeremy squeaked  
The girl’s eyes glazed over a little as she grinned “Nnnnnyes”  
“How strong is your hit,” Michael asked - this had sparked his interest.  
“I made edibles. They're. Stronger than I thought they would be.”  
“with pot?” Michael really hoped it was pot  
The girl nodded slowly “yeeeeaaaaaas”  
Jesus this girl was over the moon.  
“What type of weed is it?” Michael needed some of whatever she had been taking.  
“Idk man I grew it myself”  
She was saying idk out loud. She must be pretty fucked up.  
“As a certified stoner, you’re gonna have to give me a hit at some point. You know, for research.”  
Michael tried his best to make Jeremy smile.  
A look to his right confirmed the joke had worked.

  
“Okay, so.” the girl was staring blankly at Jeremy and Michael. Like something pink and fluffy was resting between their heads.  
“Bighouse?” Jeremy suggested  
“Yes! Yes. that.” the blonde girl turned on her heel and began to stagger up the hill and away from the woods. Michael found himself happy about getting away from them.

 

They arrived in a few minutes’ walk, the rain fading to a light patter, sprinkling Michaels face like he was being lightly seasoned. Not too much to where it would annoy him but not too little for Michael to call the weather dry. They hadn't seen a soul on the way thank god. They would have been the weirdest thing in this place now, Michael imagined what they must look like to any onlooker.  
Brooke led the way, staggering slightly from side to side and staying, unsurprisingly, off in her own world; she was muttering under her breath. Behind her came Jeremy, face redder than a tomato and trying his best to look comfortable in his new, very handsome and very un-Jeremy state (he wasn’t doing a great job) and behind Jeremy came Michael who was trying his best to limp up the hill and not show how much pain his body was in or how much blood he was trailing behind him because he knew if Jeremy saw it he would faint.  
God he deserved an award for sticking with him.  
Michael hurt. He hurt a lot. The adrenaline was wearing off he supposed. All he knew is that his sides felt tender and raw (a subtle lift of his hoodie had confirmed 2 large cuts and a multitude of bruises already forming.)  He couldn't really see due to the fact that his glasses lay completely destroyed in his pockets (along with his undamaged Gameboy which he was almost certain he hadn't put back). Making it harder to see was the fact he could feel one eye closing up due to swelling. He had put up his hood to cover his neck which had a large gash running down the side. Thank god his headphones remained intact. If they had been damaged Michael would have broken down sobbing there and then.

When they arrived at the top of the hill Brooke haphazardly kicked open one of the doors lazily and ushered them upstairs to a room decorated similarly to the last place he had been in this building; tacky furniture that felt like it had been made 45 years ago in kind of ugly floral prints. This room itself was smaller though, Michaels best guess was that it was a lobby or waiting room for something.

He flopped his body on the least ugly looking couch and rested on the side of him that hadn’t been bruised.

Jesus, he hadn't realized how badly he needed to lie down.

“Wait here I’m gonna grab you both something to munch on” Brooke excited the room, nearly tripping on her own feet as she did so.  
If she made it down the stairs it would be a miracle.

Michael felt Jer sit down in the middle of the c made by his curled-up body. He tried not to wince with pain and scare Jeremy away.

“Hey” Jeremy said softly

“Hey Jer”  
“So”  
“Yeah”  
“Our parents fucked gods. I mean, I think that's why you’re here, you could just be like half goat or something.”  
Michael chuckled then winced “Nah man I’m pretty sure my mum did, in fact, do it with a god”  
Jeremy put a hand next to Michaels' head to steady himself, Michael noticed Jeremy's nails and saw the little squiggles and triangles on them closer - they made a gnarly 90’s pattern. Aphrodite had taste.  
“do you know which one?” Jeremy wriggled his fingers  
“No idea my dude”  
“I mean same until 30 seconds ago”  
“Didn’t your dad tell you?”  
“He knew?”  
“Yeah man he told me”  
“What the fuck! Nobody tells me shit!” Jeremy pouted, and Michael again noted the lack of acne scars on Jeremy's chin.

He knew Jeremy would love to see they were gone but Michael thought he might miss them a little.

“When did he even tell you?”  
“Oh man **that’s** a long ass story”  
“I mean we have some time now”

Michael coughed into his hand and felt his body clench with pain, a look into his palm revealed a disgusting mix of blood and spit, he supposed he must have bit his tongue during the fight. He heard Jeremy gasp.

fuck. He hadn’t hidden the gross fluid fast enough.

“Oh Shit, Micha you don’t have to talk if it hurts!” Jeremy looked around frantically for some miracle cure to Michaels pain and settled on grabbing 2 hideous pillows, shoving one under Michaels neck and the bigger one under his head.  
It helped a little.

“Do you mind if we talk about after I don't, ya know, hurt everywhere” Michael grinned despite the pain it caused his eye  
“Of course not, you fuck. You scared the shit out of me! Why did you try and fight him!”  
Michael neglected to tell Jeremy that this was _not_ the first time he had been beaten up for his best friend. And if he ever went back to Middleborough, it probably wouldn't be the last.  
“I Couldn't let him hurt you.”  
“God Michael. That’s -  that’s sweet it really is. But you got fucked up man! I hate when you get hurt”  
Michael sensed a rant and tried to stop it.  
“Hey Jer” Michael looked up at his best friend, brown eyes meeting blue.  
“Yeah Michael?”  
“Mmmnnothing.” Michael wriggled closer to Jeremy, trying to suck up his warmth like an evil (but very sore) leech. “Just glad to see you”  
“Me too”  
Jeremy's stressed face felted into a tired smile with a hint of something else in it.. something-  
“Hey boiiiiis” Brooke waltzed into the room holding a bright green apple in one hand and a shot glass of something in the other. She handed the fruit to Jeremy and the glass to Michael.  
“You’re gonna need that, it’ll help ya heal. And Jerry I thought might be hungry, so I got you an apple.”  
“It’s Jeremy,” Michael said before taking the glass.

It covered in badly painted dolphins and ‘SEA WORLD’ was printed in block letters around the rim. The golden liquid inside shone strangely, reflecting rainbows that weren't there; kind of like the surface of a bubble.  
“Brooke, what is this?”  
“It’s called nectar, the gods drink it. It’s REALLY fucking good”  
“It’s not like, alcoholic?”  
“Fuck no, this isn't the cold war”

Michael took a tentative sip. It did taste good, holy shit it tasted _amazing._ He took a bigger gulp and tried to pick the flavor. It was kind of like a mix of cherry slushy and.. Something else...  
“Jer! It tastes like a Momo’s chocolate freakshake!”  
“That’s impossible! It shut down a year ago! Also, it looks literally nothing like a milkshake.”

Momo’s had been Michaels third favorite place on earth. (the 2nd was his basement. The 1st was wherever Jeremy was)  
The beginning of the Momo’s saga had happened when they were about 9 years old. He and Jer had taken a trip out of town camping with Jeremy’s dad. As a reward for not wriggling around in the car like the little gremlins they were the whole way home, Mr Heere promised them a reward. They had pulled up in the car park of an ancient strip of shops on the side of the highway and walked into an old diner, complete with booths, roller skating waitress’ and a gnarly old jukebox. The food had literally been the best shit he had eaten in his entire life. His little tongue couldn't handle it. Neither could Jeremys.  
They both cried when they had to leave.  
When Michael had got his license Momo’s had been the first place they had driven too.  
It had become a ritual. Go to momo’s, get a vanilla freakshake for Jer and a chocolate one for himself, and a bowl of curly fries to share. The food got better every time.  
Well, at least it had until the place had been bought out and replaced by a Pay-less Shoes of all things.

That had literally been the saddest day of Michael's life.

And yet here he was, slurping at this syrupy liquid - which tasted exactly like that familiar chocolatey taste

“Man I fucking love magic.” Michael wolfed down the rest of the liquid, grinning like a toddler.  
“It changes depending on who drinks it - mine tastes like this strawberry honey mocktail my dad used to make. It’s so good bro.” Brooke gazed up at the ceiling, riding out her high.  
“Gimme gimme!” Jeremy gestured for Michael to give him the glass and Michaels hand moved of its own accord.

  
He really had to learn to stop buying into Jeremy’s every word like that.

  
“NOPE” Brooke snatched the glass away from Jeremy's hands - Jeremy shrieked loudly.

“Sorry, this stuff is god food remember. You’re only allowed to have it if you’re injured. Makes you heal faster - otherwise your insides spontaneously combust or something” Brooke turned back to Michael and pointed at his face “see?”  
Jeremy looked down at Michael and inhaled sharply.  “your eye!”  
Michael reached up and patted around his swelling eye socket - only to find it now wasn't swollen at all. It remained slightly tender on the outer corner of his face (where the punch had landed) but honestly, it didn't even feel as tight as some of the pimples he had had in his tweens.  
“Yooooooooo” Michael kept prodding his injuries - only to find himself in much better condition than he had been 2 minutes ago. He probably could have sat up if he wanted too! He wasn't going to because Jeremy was warm, and he was comfortable. But he could've!

“You guys have a reason for beating up Rich?”  
“The short kid?” Michael asked. Brooke nodded.  
“Yeah man, he was trying to fucking kill Jeremy!”  
“Both of us actually” Jeremy added  
“Yeah but mostly you” Michael looked at Brooke. She shrugged  
“not fucking likely.”  
“Excuse me?”

Michael had been liking this blonde girl, but he started feeling a bit pissed at that. Michael had literally been ground to a pulp by this kid - after he had threatened to murder him.

“Rich is literally the sweetest boy I have ever met. Seriously.” she saw Michael frowning at her. “You don’t believe me? He bumped into a tree yesterday and _apologized_ to it. He isn’t one to start fights unless they’re for practice.”  
“Brooke, he told us that if we surrendered ourselves our ‘deaths wouldn't be long’. He tried to impale Jeremy! when said ‘we need you both’ he literally spat right into my face.”  
“Wait what.” Brooke looked right into his eyes, she looked remarkably focused all of a sudden.  
“Yeah it was disgusting, I could feel it running down my cheek”  
"No. Michael what do you mean ‘WE need you both’”  
“Yeah, that was weird actually. I thought he was insane like that”  
“Michael this is very, _very_ important. Was rich speaking weirdly. Did he have a speech impediment?”  
“I mean he was kind of hissing at us,” Jeremy said, looking worried.  
“What color were his eyes.” Brooke had stood up, her muscles clenched in her arms.  
“Oh yeah, that was the other weird thing. They were this electric kind of dark blue.”

“Green.” Brooke whispered quietly.

“What?”  
“ _Rich’s eyes are green!_ ” she was pacing now, running hands through her hair. Her lower lip was trembling.  
Jeremy sat forward. “Brooke, are you alright”  
She took no notice. Quietly muttering to herself. After a couple of seconds, she bolted upright.  
“I have to go.”  
“Brooke Wait! What’s going on-”

Brooke was already running for the door. She collided with Chiron and rich on her way through. Tripping slightly and not even acknowledging them before sprinting out of sight.  
Chiron paid no heed to her. Rich watched her leave with a worried look.

 

Finally, Chiron spoke

 

“Michael. Jeremy. We have to talk.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -YEET  
> -wowzer what a riDE  
> -trouble is AFOOT ILL TELL YOU THAT MUCH  
> -BROOKE IS MY BABY  
> \- I Love Her So Much  
> FAQ ABOUT BROOKE AND HER POWERS:  
> \- powerful but doesn't like using her power!  
> -Her main gifts come in control over flowering plants!  
> -Brooke was born in winter when Demeter grieves (persephone stuff) - thus her powers are often harmful which is why she doesn't like them.  
> \- She can make plants grow and wither with ease.  
> \- As Demeter is the goddess of plenty she can also make edible items more filling to anyone who eats them.  
> -When she’s angry she grows thorns all over her arms.  
> \- She can create flowers that smell good and look but are actually v v v poisonous (almost killed Christine once whoops)  
> -she also has power over the seasons (she can change what season the plants around her think it is( It really fucks with the dryads))  
> \- she is strongest in autumn (the time where Demeter begins to grieve)  
> BONUS:  
> \- she loves daffodils and when she is super super happy they spring from wherever she’s walked or sat down.  
> -SHE CAN SHOOT WEED OUT THE GROUND. THAT'S WHY HER HIT IS SO STRONG. IT COMES FROM HER OWN POWER
> 
> anyways enough
> 
> if anyone made art based off this i would literally spontaneously combust just saying


	10. UPDATES

ALRIGHTY LISTEN UP FUCKERS

I had some plans for the chapters of this fic which has been revised

originally there was a plan (which i dont want to reveal cause spoilers) WHICH WAS ANGSTY

 

but my friend gave me an idea which 1. fit better 2. ended better and 3. fit more with the story

SO instead of using taylor swift songs as the titles im going to put them as songs that sound the best when reading this fic

do u have to use them, no - but if you do it make make the experiance better?

[you can find the playlist here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/your.lord.pentequark/playlist/4EDlN42YdfLORnuo6MQYiT?si=HbmG6hfKR52GGONKuf5jFA)

anyway i know the last chapter had some SHITTY editing so im gonna revise that asap 

and as a reward for putting up with this crap u get another WHOLE CHAPTER WOW

 

later nerds

 

Ink x 


	11. Team (Lorde, Pure Heroine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael has a talk with Chiron and rejects a potential apology.

Michael was called in first. Chiron had insisted on individual interviews so that “all points of view called be laid out before him.” While the logical part of Michael thought that was pretty valid. Most of him was screaming “NO” for these three reasons”

  1. Interviews meant getting up and fuck he hurt
  2. Getting up meant leaving Jeremy in the same room as the boy who tried to kill him
  3. Leaving Jeremy just wasn’t a nice prospect at all really.



But when Chiron motioned for him to follow into a separate room he begrudgingly followed, with a small apologetic wave back at Jeremy who looked like he wanted to sink into the couch and die.

Michael was ushered into a room with a heavy wooden door and a window looking out over the cabins. Unlike the rest of the rooms in the Bighouse it was cluttered with assorted ancient looking memorabilia. Globes with strange lands were perched precariously on dangerously tall stacks of books, strange skins and skeletons hung on various hooks across the room, shelves upon shelves of manuals and boxes lines the walls. In the middle of the clutter was deep chestnut desk covered in papers and manuscripts. Chiron shut the door and gestured Michael to sit at a small padded stool opposite his side of the desk.

“Well Michael, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”  
"Yeah, me neither”  
“How was your trip to the Armory?”  
“Pretty good actually.”  
“Do you mind if I see what you picked out?”  
“Yeah sure” Michael produced his Gameboy. Chiron gave him a confused smile.   
“Do you want me to like, unleash it or whatever.”  
“That would be nice yes.”  
Michael pressed the A button for the third time that day and the space rippled around the burgundy device - the air tessellating into fragments as the weight of the hammer filled his hand once again, glimmering beautifully even in the limited light.

Κόκκινος Chiron whispered with awe.

“What?”   
“That’s its name. Kόκκινος. Flip it over.”   
Michael did, admiring again how elegant the thing was. How perfectly weighted. On the underside of the handle the word Kόκκινος had been engraved in a thin cursive, as if the writer was signing a painting rather than a weapon.  
A word drifted to the front of Michaels mind, pushing its way through thoughts like an air bubble rising to the surface of a deep ocean.   
“Scarlet.” Michael whispered quietly.  
“Yes.”   
He looked back to Chiron who looked conflicted. Michael could tell he was thinking hard about something.  
“What’s up?”  
This pulled Chiron from his thoughts. “Nothing. Nothing I hope.”

Jesus this guy was a fucking cryptid.

“Anyhow. Can you please explain to me the events leading up to you attempting to attack Richard.”  
“I didn’t attack him! He threatened to kill me!”  
Michael explained his story; his trip to the Hermes cabin, his conversation with Jenna before dinner, hearing a yell from the woods and running to meet Jeremy.  
“So you knew Jeremiah before today?”   
“Yeah I did. Jer and I have been best friends since like. The beginning of time. He’ s like my other half.”  
Chiron muttered something under his breath before he spoke again to Michael “Did you know he was here?”  
Michael thought of Mr Heere.  
“No.”   
“Are you sure?”  
Michael gulped “yeah. I knew he was going to a summer camp, but I don't know anything about it.”  
“So you saw Jeremy running out from behind the bust of Poseidon. And you ran to protect him?”  
“Yeah, the short kid - Rich? Was chasing him holding a spear. I wasn't about to let my best friend get impaled.”  
“So you run out to defend him?”  
“Of course”  
“That’s very brave”  
"Not really” Michael sighed “it’s selfish honestly - don’t think I could live with myself if I let Jeremy get hurt”

Chiron smiled “it’s still admirable”

Michael continued - he wasn’t great with compliments. “Anyway, so like - I run out to defend Jeremy and Rich starts saying some weird shit and threatening both of us. Not like the ‘I’ll beat you up’ kind of stuff but like ‘surrender yourselves and your death won’t be painful’ he was also talking about himself as a we”  
Chiron leaned forward. “What do you mean”  
“He said like “~we need you both~” Michael attempted to make the same hissy voice that he had heard come out of the boy’s mouth.  
Chiron frowned “Did he have a lisp?”   
“No. he just kind of hissed a lot.”  
“Was there anything off about his face?”  
“Yeah. his eyes were glowing this weird blue colour - and all his veins behind them were glowing as well. Kind of like wires?”  
“Di immortals”  
"What”  
Chiron looked at him and Michael felt eons pour onto his shoulders. This man had seen a lot of things in his life.   
“Michael, for your sake I hope this is not what it is seeming to be”  
Before could make him expand on that Chiron asked him the next question. “what snapped him out of it.”  
“Oh okay so while he was beating the crap out of me”  
Chiron raised an eyebrow.   
“It’s true!”  
Chiron held up his hands “I didn’t say anything”  
“Anyway so he was kicking at my head and whatever and Jeremy just yelled “leave him alone” and the next thing you know the kid was curled up on the floor hollering like a madman, but he had just tried to y’know kill me so I wasn’t to worried about him if I’m honest. So, I go over to Jeremy and the next thing you know he’s glowing and his clothes change and he looks amazing”  
Chiron thought for a moment  
“It seems our friend Jeremy has a lot of power in his voice”  
The old man abruptly stood “is there anything else that has been bugging you.”  
“Yeah just one thing. Nobody in camp has any idea who Jeremy is.”  
“How do you mean?”  
“Even his cabin mates didn’t know who he was. I asked everyone if they had seen him. Nobody could remember his name.”  
“Did Jenna know him”  
“No”  
"That’s …..Very odd.”  
Chiron stood for a long time, deep in thought.

“Michael, is Jeremy positive about himself often.”

He cast his eyes at the floor. Michael didn’t like talking about how much Jeremy didn’t like himself. Because when Jeremy called him at 2am for the fourth day in a row - Michael cried with him as well. Because when he saw Jeremy skip a meal and pretend to be full - Michael no longer felt hungry. Because when he saw Jeremy feel like he wasn’t enough -  it hurt Michael more than any beating could.

  
He took a deep breath “not nearly as much as he should be.”

The old man nodded, understanding in his grey eyes. “Thank you, Michael. That will be all.”  


Michael walked out, and Chiron called out behind him. Please send Richard through to my office.

Great. Now Michael was gonna have to talk to the fucker.

He strolled back out into the corridor and took the first door to his left. The boy with the red streak was babbling like a 6-year-old and talking with a pronounced lisp. Jeremy was curled into one side of the couch. Pale and nodding along with him.

“Awh man itsh thooooo cool! It’s like regular pepshi! Justh clear!-”

“Chiron wants you.” Michael couldn’t find it in him to even pretend to like him.

“Oh. Cool!” Rich stood up, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair and looking anywhere but Michael, who was staring daggers at him. Rich scampered past him and Michael flopped back next to Jeremy.

Michael noticed Jeremy relax his shoulders “You okay man?”

“Yeah I’m alright.”  Jeremy leaned his head into Michael’s lap, his pale eyes looking up at him. When Jeremy blinked it was impossible to ignore his long dark lashes that perfectly framed his big wide baby blues. It was a distraction Michael had learned to mostly ignore.

“Was he bugging you?”

“Yeah. but he wasn’t trying to like, kill me. Which was nice.”

“Jeremy if he gives you anything you just gotta tell me. I’ll make sure he regrets it.”

“Michael, don’t get me wrong I think you’re the Bees Mcfreaking knees. But you can’t fight for shit.”

Michael swallowed the urge to disagree. Jeremy was wrong there, very wrong. Michael had a gnarly punch if he said so himself - and he knew that for a reason; but he would rather die than let Jeremy know he got into fights because of him.  
That was a sore topic - and something he didn't want to be open with just yet.

Instead he made a joke. Because he knew Jeremy liked them. And knowing what Jeremy liked was honestly Michaels most  valuable asset.

“Did you just motherfucking say bee’s knees?

Jeremy giggled. “Like you can fucking talk. Remember that time you said Zoinks unironically.”  
“I was stoned out of my mind!”  
“You still said Zoinks. Fucking Zoinks! My best friend turned into shaggy from scoobedoo”  
“Jeremy don’t come to me insulting my pal Scoobert doo. He’s an icon. A god. A legend. That show is a national treasure”  
“Teen Titans Go was better.”  
Michael froze “What the  _FUCK_ did you just say to me.”  
Jeremy had known that would piss him off the little shit; He was grinning like a goblin.  
“It’s my favourrrrrrrite”  
“Jeremiah Heere prepare to meet your maker, you sick bastard.”  


And with that Michael began to tickle Jeremy mercilessly.   


The lanky boy squealed and curled up to avoid being attacked his nimble fingers. Michael knew Jeremy's most ticklish spots. Stomach, underarms and - most notable - the small dip between his neck and collar bones. Armed with this knowledge Michael attacked these points, while nimbly avoiding any defence Jeremy put up.   
Being very impartial to Jeremys laugh was a weakness (a weakness he loved and could deal with but still). To defend against this weakness Michael tried to learn all the ways he could make Jeremy giggle.  From that weakness Michael had gained a strength he wouldn't give up for anything.

He stopped after a minute or so - Jeremy called into a little ball in his lap and panting hard from trying to get away. Michael looked down at the boy and felt a comfortable warmth spread through his chest. He loved being uncaring like this. He loved being with Jeremy so much. The big blue eyes stared up at him again and Michael saw a flash of something across his face.

“Micha I-”

The door flicked open and Rich strolled into the room. Michael felt Jeremy tense and instinctively felt his eyes narrow into daggers. When Rich’s eyes met his he saw the small boys smile falter for a second before trying to cover it up. Michael didn’t care. Fuck that kid.

“Uhhh Jeremy, Chiron wanth you.” Rich looked just below Michaels eyes. “He said thatth ith would be a while stho we should thould probably gooooo, thry and getth thumb thleep”

Michael kept his glare up. “I’ll be out with you in a minute.”  
They boys waited for Rich to leave the room  
“God I fucking hate him”  
“He freaks me out”  
“I know, thats WHY I hate him.”  
“Awhhhh”  
Jeremy fake swooned over him.  
“Shut up dork.”  
Jeremy sat up and walked toward the door  
Michael reached out for him “You gonna be okay?”   
the lanky boy took a deep breath.  
“Yeah ill be okay.”  
“Want me to wait for you?”  
“No. Michael you have to get some rest.” Jeremy looked at his watch. It’s almost 10.30!”  
“Jeremy, that’s normally when I have lunch.”  
“Not in this place. They wake everyone up at 6 am to be ready for breakfast at 7.”  


Michael looked up at the ceiling. God - strike that - the  _gods plural_ , must hate him.

“Those  _heathens_.”  
“The word Heathens triggers my Twenty One Pilots side stop.”  
“Oh fuck Jeremy no pLEASE.”

They both laughed.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”  
“Yes Michael. I’m sure. Get some rest.”  
Michael was fully intending to fall asleep on that couch and wait for Jeremy to be done, but the lanky boy could read his face too well to let him get away with it.  
“I mean it mike - _go to bed and get some sleep in your own bunk_.”  
And Michael just knew he couldn’t refuse. Jeremy could be  _very_ persuasive. He suddenly needed to go to bed and it couldn’t be anywhere other than his bunk.  
“See you in the morning?” Jeremy smiled at him  


“Night Micha.”  


“Night Jer.”  
They hugged then-  - a long one, swaying slightly for a couple of seconds. Before Jeremy coughed and turned around quickly.  
“See you in the morning” he mubled, stiffling a yawn.

And he walked toward Chiron’s office.

Michael chucked up his hood and went out to meet Rich. He was not looking forward to it.  
The short boy was tapping his foot up and down at the entrance to the bighouse. On hearing Michaels footsteps he looked up nervously.  
“Hey-”  
“Hi.” Michael walked straight past him and Rich moved to catch up.  
“Uh hey stho I know it’th really weird bethween us cause I almosth thried to kill you or something but dude I swear-”  
“Or something?” Michael made sure his tone was full of menace. God this guy was so fucking dumb. Didn’t he see that any chance of him trusting the kid had evaporated as soon as he tried to fuck with Jeremy?”  
“Yeah. i’m stho stho thuper thorry. I didn’th know whath I wath doing.”  
Michael walked a little bit faster. The sooner he was back to his cabin the sooner he could be done with this boy  
“Your fists sure did.” he muttered under his breath  
“Look man, I canth remember doing ith. I was like. Pothethed or thomething.”  
“Hm. cool.”   
Michael made sure he kept his face sour and kept walking. Rich kept next to him but didn't say anything for a while.   
The grass was deserted, and the only lights came from the cabins windows - which illuminated the drizzling rain as it fell like pieces of a falling star.

Michael made a move to walk back to the Hermes cabin.  
“Goodnight.” Rich called after him desperately  
“Whatever”

Just as Michael was about to exhale and breathe normally because ‘finally he had got away from that asshole’ He felt someone grab his arm.

There was a pause

Michael whipped around, turning on Rich like a demon. Who gave this fucker. This pile of trash any right to speak to him. How did he have the audacity to try and ‘apologise’! Please. Of course he had known what he was doing. He knew this kids game. Middleborough was ripe with the type. This kid was that one bully that played innocent to the teachers and then as soon as the bell rang he booted out the classroom cackling like a maniac to go harass some skinny kid by taking their lunch money and make them feel like shit.  
Well he wasn’t going to let it slide. Not here. Not anymore.

Michael looked right into Rich’s scarred green eyes.

 

“ **Dont. fucking. Touch me.”**

 

He slapped Richs hand away hard and stormed toward his cabin. Standing to the side of the door for the blue paint ball and ignoring the quiet nothing behind him.

 

 

This kid didn’t deserve any of his pity. And he wasn’t going to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i AM SORRY I LOVE RICH MY BOY AS WELL
> 
> anyways
> 
> hopefully we'll get a lil chat with chloe and jake soon. And Christine will be back next chapter!!!  
> WOW SO HOW ABOUT THAT HUH  
> what is chiron talking to jeremy about? when will michael realise about jeremys secret??? what is jeremys secret??? you'll just have to wait and see ;)  
> why does michael take beatings at school? it will BECOME APPARENT AND IMPORTANT
> 
> also i saw the Killers yesterday and it was fucking amazing. this is gonna be the only thing i talk about for the next week. what the fuck.
> 
> JUST SOME CLEAR UP FAQ  
> \- the blessing of aphrodite lasts for around 5/6 days in this au  
> \- jeremy faints super easily when it comes to injuries. its a miracle he didn't faint while michael was getting beat up.
> 
> hopefully next update will be within the week!!!!


	12. Santa Monica Dream (Angus and Julia Stone, Down the Way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael meets another camper and slurps some apple juice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in other news there is now a PLAYLIST for this fic so u cAN LISTEN TO THE SONGS WHILE YOU READ I KNOW WILD find it HERE: https://open.spotify.com/user/your.lord.pentequark/playlist/4EDlN42YdfLORnuo6MQYiT?si=88tkXGS_SnCsURKPq6bDBw

Michael slammed the door. The cabin was quieter now. The entrance to the bedrooms was closed, no light seeped under the door. The only sound was 2 people chatting faintly from the kitchen/living room thing he had been into earlier that day with Christine.  
He was thirsty, he noticed. Too thirsty to ignore till morning where he could follow someone to wherever they had breakfast.  
That left him the only other option.

The kitchen.

Shit.

He swallowed his anxiety (not effectively) and stepped through the door.  
The voices stopped abruptly.  
There were three people in the room he realised - Instead of the two he had already suspected. Jenna was sitting on the beat-up couch, chatting to a blonde girl in a yellow blazer. Laying on the floor in front of a small fireplace was a kid with tangled long bright red hair. She doodled in a notebook facing away from the other 2 girls.

 Upon his entry to the kitchen the girl in the yellow blazer stood and bid her farewells - then scurried past him with a small grin, shutting the door behind her.

“Hi” Michael whispered to Jenna  
“Hey kid” her book remained on the couch “how was Chiron.”  
“Honestly? Pretty cryptic.”  
“Ugh tell me about it.”

Jenna strolled into the kitchen and pulled out three Ikea plastic cups. How she had known what Michael had been looking for was a goddamn mystery.

Jenna kept talking as she crouched to open a small fridge in the corner.  
“How was your friend” she asked  
Michael sighed.  
“he gets nervous pretty easy. Honestly - I’m kind of worried about him. Jeremy can always handle his own and pull through but” he took a deep breath “ I care about him a lot”  
Jenna came to stand next to him, pouring three glasses of syrupy liquid from a bottle labelled with a piece of tape reading ‘apple’

“Is now an inappropriate time to ask you if you’re absolutely 100 percent sure he’s not your boyfriend.”  
He rolled his eyes but before he could protest Jenna chuckled  
“I’m just messing with you. Besides I would know if you were hiding it from me - part of my dad’s gifts in being able to see when someone is lying or has a secret.”  
She recapped the bottle and returned to the fridge.  
“What I can see _without_ my dad’s gifts is knowing how much you care about him. Seriously. It’s great you have such a close friend.” He saw a glimmer of sadness cross her face in the cool fridge light.  
He didn’t know what to say  
So he didn’t say anything  
For a second the only noise was the crackle of the fire and the scratching of pencil on paper as Jenna shut the fridge, and opened the top cupboard, retrieving three straws before strolling back over to him.

“What about Rich, did you clear whatever happened up?”  
“Hm.” Michael pursed his lips  
“I’ll take that as a no.”  
“Look Jenna, I don’t care how “nice of a guy he is”. I’ve met kids like him before. They act all suave to pretty girls and their buff friends and then they go and beat up nerds to suppress their homoerotic fantasies through toxic masculinity. Trust me. You wouldn't believe how many times I’ve had to step in to protect Jeremy. To stop them making fun of me. And I’m sick of it. I just wanted a break of their bullshit over the summer. And I’m not letting it follow me here. I -”  
He could feel himself getting maybe a little too worked up over this.  
 “I just can’t.”

He looked over to see a mix of pity and understanding on Jenna's face. She handed him a yellow cup of juice.

“I can understand that mike. Can I call you Mike?”  
Before Michael could reply to tell her that ‘no she definitely could not’ she continued.  
“Whatever I’m calling you Mike. Point being that I won’t press you. But I just wanna ask you to give him a chance. Rich is a good guy.”  
Seeing he about to reply she interrupted him before he could do so. “But if that’s your opinion, I’m not going to pressure you to change it.”  
Michael decided to hold his tongue. He respected that - her ability to not push him.  
The chubby girl grabbed the 2 remaining cups of juice and took them over to the fire, gesturing Michael to follow. She set a blue cup in front of the drawing red head who muttered “thanks Jen” while still scribbling.

He took a seat next to the small embers, rolling his shoulders as his body relaxed into the heat. Michael loved warm things  
His thermostat was permanently on the higher end of the spectrum. He wore his hoodie year-round. Hell, his first memory of Jeremy was snuggling into his bed on a sleepover - wriggling down into the toasty sheets and listening to Jeremy’s little giggles as he did so.  
He thought about that a lot for some reason.

“Michael, this is Rachael Elizabeth Dare.” The ginger girl turned her face toward him, looking a little surprised. Michael’s best guess was that she didn’t know he had been in the room.  
He could relate to that - whenever Michael was fixing his console or putting together a new one from scratch; Jeremy or one of his mothers would have to physically pinch him sometimes to occupy his attention.  
“Hiya.” the girl gave Michael a little wave. Her face was round and pretty - dotted with freckles and warm blue eyes illuminated by the crackling fire. Similar to Jeremy’s but not the same -  
  


this girl’s eyes were warm blue. Jeremy’s were almost glacial in colour.  
  


Now Michael noticed it, everything about this girl seemed to be warm. Her orange hair which shone in the firelight, her heated blue eyes, her golden chain with a tiny eye decal on the bottom even seemed to glow.  
“Are you like, a fire halfblood?” Michael asked curiously. He wondered if it was rude to just ask that.  
“No, not a halfblood.” the girl continued to draw, pushing her pencil deep into the sketchbook roughly.  
“Wait, can you be in this place if you aren’t one?”

Jenna replied. “Nope. Well not normally anyway - mortals can’t make it past the archway. Rachael is a special case.”  
Michael waited for an explanation, but none came. Curiosity got the better of him.  
“Soooooo...why are you here. Not in a mean way! Just like. Is there a reason?”  
Jesus that had sounded wrong. Fuck.  
The red-haired girl looked up again and smiled.

“Well Michael - what would you say if I told you I could ~predict the future~?”

“That… you were full of shit?” Michael guessed

Both girls laughed quietly  
“Well I mean you’re partly right. I can’t per say. But I AM the host to an ancient oracle who can.”  
“All of me still wants to say you’re full of shit.”  
“Nope, she isn’t actually fucking with you” Jenna said nonchalantly. “the oracle of Delphi lives in her. Sometimes she spews green smoke and prophecies. It’s wild really.”  
“Y'know” Michael said after a minute. “That isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.”  
Rachael snorted. “It will be the weirdest thing you’ll see I can give you that.”  
“Can you do it. like. On command?”  
“Nah. when that bad bitch oracle decides to spew green smoke and hopefully a poem she just yeets out my body. No idea when and if it’s gonna happen.”  
“My meme starved body appreciated that, thank you”  
Welcome”

They sat in silence for a while. Sipping juice and listening to the crackle of the fire. Rachael’s pencil scratching on her sketchbook.  
For the first time in a while he managed to vanquish all thoughts from his mind. Simply blocked all thoughts of school and his moms and even Jeremy from crossing the threshold of his consciousness. It was nice to do this he realised - to just let himself simply exist without thinking - warming his back against the fire and focusing on his breathing.

Michael didn’t know where he stood in terms of mental health. His mums worked too hard to get him tested for anything really - someone had to pay the medical bills after all. But he’d never really seen anything to get tested _for_. He had to be strong, for his Mom’s sake. For Jeremy’s sake. He had to hold them still and near him. Stop them being scooped up in their minds and withering away. He had made himself a rock - un unshiftable force that could be depended on. His family needed that from him. To be there no matter how sick she got or how steep the prices were or how fucking anxious Jeremy got about the smallest things.

And Michael had figured out early that it is hard to be someone's rock if you feel like you might just fly away into the distance yourself.

  
No, to help someone else work through their demons you had to beat your own feelings into submission; - through weed. Through fixing dumb machines. Through the blades from an old sharpener he had unscrewed on a whim hoping it would numb him before realising it just hurt and made him feel shittier.  
You had to be there unconditionally, for those who loved and needed you  
\- and in the process you made yourself stronger.

That’s what he told himself at least.

But this was all sounding edgier than it actually was. He was happy being like this for his loved ones. Seeing them happy was better than any drug - if that meant he had to shut himself down somewhat in the process then that was okay with him - selflessness was a virtue.

 

 

But right now, in this moment he was enjoying the feeling of just being still and himself and away from all the problems everyone close to him seemed to have. To be completely free. Even if it was only for this tiny sliver of time.

He looked around the room absentmindedly. eyes landing on Rachael's sketchbook. He inhaled sharply, abruptly realising 2 things - drawing him from his hazy state.

  1. Rachael was drawing with her eyes closed. Not in that way artists do when they're trying to squint at a work. Completely and utterly screwed shut.
  2. Her drawing (now completed on the left side, remaining blank on the right) was undoubtedly a remarkable rendition of Jeremy’s face.



Michael tapped at Jenna shoulder furiously. “Jenna!”  
“What?”  
“That’s Jeremy! she’s drawing Jeremy!”  
Jenna took a hard look at the picture, then at Michael, then at Rachael's face - which hadn’t moved from her previous expression.  
“That’s… interesting.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“Well I’d guess” Jenna said softly “that Jeremy is a lot more important than anyone would’ve thought.”  
‘I thought he was important’ Michael said to himself. But that was irrelevant.  
What was completely relevant was the absolute lack of energy he had for even processing what that meant.  
“How so?” he made himself ask anyway  
“Well Mike, if Rachael has an oracle scrunched up inside her head - that could show itself in separate ways. But honestly, right now.”  
Jenna took a long sip from her red striped straw  
“I am too tired to think about it”  
“Same”

He took a final look at Rachael’s drawing. Jeremys face looked content and happy - a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Jenna. I think I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Go for it.” She stood up “Oh, and Michael, just before you go.”  
Jenna walked over to the couch and reached behind it, pulling out an old tile from the wall revealing a small compartment. Michael wouldn't have noticed it at all if she hadn't just showed him.  
Reaching in the chubby girl retrieved a small clear plastic bag that held;

  *  a toothbrush
  * some toothpaste
  * a small wooden comb
  *  a tiny thin roll of tape
  * 3 condoms (Michael had choked when he saw them)
  * 10 stamps of assorted sizes
  * 10 envelopes
  * A small pad of paper
  * A biro
  * Deodorant
  * A little (like almost so small it was cute) tub of Vaseline
  * A hotel sized pack of Captain Crunch
  * A thin grey sleeping mask
  * And finally, a piece of thick card attached to a long black cord tied to both sides



“The sign is for you to hang over your bed, write your name on it and chuck it over the bed frame so people will know you exist.” she patted his shoulder twice.

“Welcome to the Hermes Cabin Michael Mell. The god of travel invites you to stay for as long as you need.”

 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

_He was back in the forest. Storm rolling over him. He could hear that voice singing again. The oh so familiar voice Michael struggled to tell whether it was male or female. He could feel the power radiating from the sounds - the sheer energy it contained. The voice was clear and beautiful - entering his ears like treacle and rolling through his blood stream. It coated his veins - his nerves. Made him want to do whatever it was telling him. It was laced with magic - he realised. When Michael used his fire, it made his bones and body tingle in a similar way to this._

_But there was something else in it as well. The voice might be delicate on the outside layer; but it pulsed underneath with something that made Michael's blood run cold. Bubbled with a new force Michael hadn’t experienced before. Old and evil and powerful. It sucked him in like a whirlpool. The flames in his hands faltering slightly as he got closer._

_He snapped out of it when he heard the clap of thunder overhead. His mind briefly becoming free of the alluring song. He took his chance and nudged his headphones over his ears. He wasn’t fond of that voice. Not now._

_He staggered forward toward the cabin again, a sense of unwarranted urgency falling over him. He knew he had to be inside that cabin or something terrible would happen. Someone needed him. Needed his help. He could feel it deep inside him._

_And that’s when the figure dropped out of the tree in front of him_

 

Jeremy hadn’t come back to the Hermes cabin that night.  
  
Michael knew because he had checked 17 seconds after he was woken up by the sleepy yellow blazer girl he has seen last night.  
Hoping to see a familiar pair of blue eyes, Michael had lurched over the side of the bed, staring at the bunk below him.  
It was still crisply made up.  
Jeremy’s pacman plushie unmoved from his pillow where Michael had placed it yesterday.  
  
Michael groaned and hauled his ass out of bed. He grabbed his little bag from Jenna as well as a change of clothes - he then joined the short line for the showers. After a five-minute wait for a stall (Michael didn’t like showering in front of other people) he stood, combing his freshly washed hair with one hand and scrubbing his teeth with the other.  
A quick look at his watch confirmed it was 7.15.  
  
Michael shoved his stuff back under his bunk and took a moment to look over at Jeremy's bedside table.  
Something was nagging at the back of his mind.  
Something that begged to be examined.  
Michael squashed it back down.  
  


He stumbled into the line of other campers headed toward breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YEET MA MEET
> 
> \- who's sick? who needs medical bills? you'll have to see ;) ;) ;)  
> \- repressed emotions? damn right.  
> \- finally a fic where self harm isnt glorified JESUS  
> \- rachy liza dar my FAV from pjo  
> \- i headcannon that rach can sleep in hatever cabin she wants cause she isnt really a halfblood idk  
> \- jenna has insomnia so she goes to bed LATE that's why shes still up  
> \- rich. pure boy. but mikey is against him  
> \- if anyone wants more hc' etc PLZ let me know
> 
> ALSO @sexteapot on instagram did a little doodle of this fic WHICH IS SUPER CUTE so check that out i died hen i saw it y'all are so nice
> 
> ANYWAYS enjoy see y'all later fuckers


	13. Be Okay (Ingrid Michaelson, Be Okay EP)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Michael meets 2 new campers and deals with a grumpy mood.

He walked toward the pavilion, pushing through his usual Tuesday morning lethargy and denying thoughts that required anything above minimum brainpower any access to his consciousness.  
The sky was clearer now, grey clouds still dappled the sky, but the ratio of blue to overcast was even. He could feel the dew-soaked grass crunching beneath his beat up chucks he had pulled from his bag that morning.

  
To the untrained eye Michael's everyday attire was exactly the same. Red hoodie. Loose jeans. High Tops. Headphones. Same shit.  
But Michael experts (like Jeremy.) (there it was again, that thing begging to be thought about.) (Michael suppressed it.) could tell that Michael lowkey owned A LOT clothes. A multitude of bad thrifted t-shirts. Jeans that ranged from medium blue to ripped black depending on his mood.  
And so many chucks. _Jesus Christ_ he had so many fucking high tops

Today it was yellow converse, dark faded jeans, and a worn grey t-shirt that read "my name is Inigo Montoya ";- not that you could see it under his hoodie of course.  
If his mothers were there they would know his ensemble meant his mood was on the verge of pissed to say the least. He had a feeling that today was not going to be his day. And he wanted everyone to know that.  
He hoped the other kids here would get the message.  
Better put on his headphones just in case

He reached the pavilion and didn’t stop this time, instead joining the queue for the food table - keeping his head down while simultaneously scanning the crowd, searching for Jeremy, Christine, Jenna or Brooke in the expert way only the severely socially awkward can master. He spotted Christine and Jenna sitting at a far table and Brooke at a table in the center in animated conversation with a dark-haired girl who wore a black shirt and a sour expression.

  
There was no sign of Jeremy.

  
Michael grabbed a piece of toast, a small waffle and a tiny tub of vegemite (where the fuck had this place got vegemite? He’d always wanted to try the stuff) before deciding to try his luck with Christine and Jenna. He picked up his tray and put his hood up over his headphones, which weren’t playing any music (his phone remaining under his pillow from where it had charged last night) but made him at least slightly more unaproachable. he tried his best to weave through the crowd of chatting teenagers, all heading to the buffet table. He just needed a minute before he was ready for any social interaction

“Hey Michael!”

Fuck

He looked up to see Brooke waving at him and beckoning him over. The rest of her table looking on expectantly

He didn’t have a choice

This day got better and better huh.

He slowly made his way over to the blonde girl who seemed a lot more alert and in the moment compared to yesterday. The rest of the kids on her table looked at him curiously while effortlessly maintaining the conversation.

If Michael had to liken this table to middleborough - this was where the top kids sat. the rulers of the social hierarchy. They symbolized everything Michael disliked.  
At middlesbrough at least.

He stopped at the foot of the table and slid off his headphones.

“Michael, Hi!” Brooke looked chirpy for so early in the morning. “Did you sleep well”  
“Yeah.” Michael lied “how about you”

Weariness flicked across her face for a split second before it was covered over “meh so so. I just wanted to introduce you to my best friend - Michael meet Chloe, Chloe meet Michael!”

The girl with the dark hair stared at him.

  
He realised there were 2 options that could be read from her facial expression - she either 1) had the worst case of RBF he had ever seen or 2) she literally could not fucking stand even the sight of him.

  
He really hoped it was option one, because this girl looked scary.

  
She had long, dark, wavy hair which was styled perfectly even for so early in the morning. He wore a black stone on a tight choker around her neck and her long fingernails were the same color. Her shirt was ribbed and sleeveless and looked effortlessly expensive. Her hoop earrings were matte black with tiny blue rhinestones set along the base of them. She looked like an infinitely cooler version of that goth chick he'd befriended on World of Warcraft before realizing she was trying to scam him for money and sex. gross.

She waved once at him “suh”

Michael recognized her voice as the shrill one commanding the campers as they gathered around Jeremy yesterday.  
  
Michael extended his hand for a shake. The dark haired girl looked him up and down then scoffed. Ouch.  
  
“Ignore her, she’s just feeling a little morbid.” Michael turned to look across the table where a tall blonde boy, not boy, _man,_ extended his hand to pick up his neglected handshake.  
“Names Jake Dillinger, but you can call me whatever - Jake, Jakey d, Jakeo. Don’t really care as long as it’s not Jacob.”

He realized with a start that this was the guy who had been sparring with Rich the day earlier. The one he had seen from the big house.  
  
Michael felt his face get warm. Was it hot in here all of a sudden? or was it just the way the guys storm blue eyes sparkled? The way his hair shone in the winter sunlight? the pit of his stomach began to fill with tight heat; The way that boy smirked at him - held his hand in the shake. It was making his poor homo heart have an aneurysm. Jesus this guy could treat him righ-

“Jake stop it.” Brooke did not sound amused. “Don’t be a jerk.”

The air in the room cooled and Michael felt himself come back to his senses.  
What the fuck?! Had he really just been visibly thirsting for that guy? I mean he was attractive, but not drool in public worthy. Wait. he hadn’t been actually drooling, had he? 

Michael touched the corner of his mouth. it was moist.

Jake laughed loudly. “Sorry Michael, old habits die hard I guess. My old man always did like exerting his influence”  
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Turns out Zeus isn't the only one who needs to learn to keep it in his pants.”

Jakes expression went stormy “cool it ‘wanna be Hot Topic.’”  
“Oh? Are we name calling now?” Chloe's face was mock surprised “well. In that case you're a -”

“ALLLLLRigHT” Brooke held up her hands. “Not now guys. We have company”  
Chloe looked like she was about to continue. her face was grim and angry. Then Michael noticed her visibly steaming purple fog.  
  
Annnnnnnnd that was his cue to leave.

“Later Brooke” he whispered. He moved without waiting for a response and jammed his headphones over his ears.  
  
Bleh. bleh, bleh, bleh, bleh, bleh. His stomach began to tie itself into knots - he had never been good at handling that kind of social embarrassment. The type where you’re at a friends house (Jeremy) and a relative starts yelling at them (his aunt Linda) and you don’t want to intrude (even though it _really_ hadn’t been Jeremy's fault that his aunts budgie had been mauled by the neighbour’s cat) so you just had to stare at the wall and clench your stomach and try not to cringe at how awkward and gross and yuck it made him feel.  
He flopped his tray down on the table in the far corner. Christine was hunched over Jenna’s book and chatting to her wildly. Jenna - had her industrial grade ear muffs over her ears. Michael was about to point this out when he realised that Jenna’s book moved animatedly - the pen moving wildly across the pages - and Michael noticed it was transcribing Christine’s words in a dark green colour. Jenna was reading the new text - and as this happened purple words interrupted the green without Jenna opening her mouth.  
It registered in his mind.  
God that book was so fucking awesome  
 “Oh! Hi Michael!”

“ _Hey Mike_ ”

“Hi guys” he saw the pen scribbling in the notebook. The ink was red biro.  
“Jenna that book is literally the coolest thing ever”

 _“I know”_ the words appeared on the page in front of him  
“Why don’t you just speak out loud, like I get the earmuffs but - you can still speak right?”

 _“I would man but turns out I don’t know how loud im speaking and that can be - well kinda awkward”  
_ “Yeah, the last time she tried she ended up yelling ‘kill the panda kin’ super fucking loudly. Embarrassing for us and just plain weird for everyone else.”

“Noice” Michael took a seat next to Christine. “How did you both sleep?”  
“Weird dream but not too bad.” chirped Christine.  
_“Sleep? Who is she?”_ the pen scribbled, and Michael noticed the bags under Jenna’s eyes. They were nice eyes. They twinkled a lot.  
Christine stared at Jenna with fake concern on her face “Christ Jenna go to BED.” she crossed her eyes “gotobedgotobedgotobedgotobed goTo BED”

Michael snorted. “That was FLAWLESS! I’ve never seen a vine recreated that well.”  
“Thank you, Michael! But the point still stands Jenna.”  
“I know I know.” Jenna sighed.

And, as if on cue, there was a loud crunch followed by a splash from almost directly behind him

Michael jumped about a foot in the air. He whipped to see Jeremy flat on his face, brown curls splayed on the concrete, lucky charms spilled all around him like sprinkles on a mortified cupcake.

  
There was a moment of silence.

 

Then the entire pavilion erupted in laughter.

 

Michael was by his side in an instant, he grabbed Jeremy's side and pushed him over to get a look at his face. His acne was still miraculously clear, it made the skinny boys freckles pop in the sunlight.

Why was he thinking of that now?

There was a small scratch on Jeremy's cheekbone but he seemed okay. His cereal hadn’t been as fortunate 

 “Awhhhhh FUCK. My lucky fuckin charmssz”

 Jeremy moaned again.

“oawwhh **shit** Michael. I was really looking forward to those”

“We’ll get you some more, now help me clean these up.” 

They grabbed handfuls of the soggy cereal, dumping clumps of the stuff onto Michaels tray in all there tainted glory.  
“Need a hand?” Christine leaned over the side of the table  
“Yeah actually, thanks, Christine.”  
“No biggie” the small girl dropped to her hands and knees. “You must be Jeremy?”  
  
Jeremy’s face was flushing. He was probably just realizing that it hadn’t just been Michael who witnessed that catastrophic murder of his cereal bowl. Michael felt his shoulders tense for his best friend. He knew how stammery Jeremy got when he was embarrassed.

“Y-yes.” Michael caught the lanky boy flicking his own hand and furrowing his brow. “I mean Yes. t-that's me.” 

Michaels' heart soared for him. Good work Jeremy. Faced with a mildly attractive girl and had kept his (relative) cool. 

“The one and only” said Michael, flicking a piece of soggy marshmallow at him. It made a small squelch as it splattered against the pale boy’s jeans.

  
Christine laughed at the sound. “Welcome to Camp Half Blood! Michaels friends are my friends!”

  
Jeremy beamed at her

  
Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASUH FUCKERS
> 
> WOW ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE I POSTED  
> im in exams rn and i have had no time to do anything but study im shittin i hate it so much man  
> this is a WEAK excuse for a chapter but it will have to do for now 
> 
> STORY STUFF:  
> \- whats michael supressing? why doesnt he want to think? i wish i knew  
> \- i mean I know but you don't and your pain brings me joy :))))  
> \- i'm kidding please keep reading my shit im begging you  
> \- ngl half the reason i haven't posted is cause the suhsire discord launched and thats consumed so much of my life  
> \- scribs and sini own me  
> \- i headcannon (lowkey) goth chloe so get prepped for her baddassery  
> \- i love you all thank u for all your kind messages and cute art i JUST 
> 
> anyways 
> 
> goodbye 4 now
> 
> xx Znoz


	14. Shadow (Wild Nothing, Nocturne)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Michael considers jeremy's whereabouts for the previous 2 weeks and is accused of being queer again

With promises to meet Christine in the middle of the courtyard. Jenna, Michael, and Jeremy strolled back toward the Hermes cabin - bellies full and in much higher spirits than the grumpy beginning to the morning.  
the birds chirped, and a small breeze flew through his hair and Michael found his shoulder muscles gently beginning to relax. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding his breath over whether Jeremy would feel comfortable here. And he had a right to be relieved; Michael had spent many an hour after midnight on the phone to his crying best friend - praying that someday the enigma of Jeremy Heere’s mental state would be allowed to put down roots in a place that wasn’t as toxic as high school. And finally, it seemed like someone had been listening. He stole a glance at Jenna and Jeremy; they were chatting in the dappled sunlight. Jenna told a joke and Jeremy actually laughed! A genuine laugh!  
  
Jeremy was insecure about a lot of things. His laugh was one of them. Personally, Michael no issue with it (he actually enjoyed it quite a lot). He loved the stages of Jers laughter, from an infectious chuckle at a bad joke to the high-pitched squealing and gasping Jeremy made when he was tickled.  
Jeremy did not agree.  
For years now Jeremy would literally bite his own tongue to stop himself laughing at school - or worse, disguise his laugh to try and make it sound deeper and less real. Michael remembered flicking through his internet history one day and seeing like 8 wikihow articles along the lines of “how to change your laugh”  
Michael felt sick every time he thought about it.  
Jeremy laughed around him. And sometimes around Mr Heere. And Michael was proud of that. He appreciated that Jer felt comfy enough to actually be himself around Michael. (and there was that thought. That scary thought) (Michael physically made himself shove it away) (not just yet)

 

Still Michael stood a little straighter and felt his heart soar when he heard Jeremy laugh genuinely at someone that wasn't him.

 

They stood to the side of the Hermes cabin door and waited for the blue paint ball.  
None came.

Michael gave a confused look at Jenna.   
She rolled her eyes and whispered. “It’s the Stoll fuckers again. They never keep the same prank for longer than a week”  
Right then a cloud of dark green smoke filled the air, curling like a mushroom cloud from the door.  
And the smell… was the worst thing Michael had smelt in his entire life.  
(Maybe the second worst. One time when he had been visiting his mother at the hospital one of the fridges had busted and 3 weeks’ worth of hospital milk had spoiled. That might have been worse.)  
But still awful.  
Michael saw Jeremy gag and suppress a wretch. Jenna just rolled her eyes.  
“Those little fucks. I’ll kill both of them” she whispered.   
And, as if it had never been there in the first place, it disappeared, leaving Michael gasping for fresh air, Jeremy looking like he was about to blow chunks and Jenna 30000% percent more done with her life.  
“Alright kids - brush your teeth and grab any training gear you need”  
“Training gear?” Michael asked.  
“Yeah like - your weapons, exercise clothes etc.” Jenna called back, leaving the boys alone on the porch

the skinny boy groaned.  
“Big mood” Michael agreed.  
Jeremy plonked his forehead onto Michael's shoulder “I hate exercise”   
“Buddy. Have you met me.”   
“I didn’t say you liked it either”  
“Yeah, but this is like, my first time doing it.”  
“Same man.”

Michael patted the top of Jeremys head absentmindedly.

 

Wait a minute. That didn’t add up  
  


“Jeremy”  
“Yeah”  
“What do you mean this is the first time you're doing exercise.”  
“I mean it’s my first time doing exercise here”  
“Jer. You've been here for two weeks”  
Jeremy paled from his perch on Michaels shoulder.  
He was silent  
“Jer i don’t care if you’ve been skipping” (that was a lie, Michael did care, he was worried) “I just wanna know what you’ve been doing instead”  
“C’MON BOYS” another shout from Jenna  
“We better -” Jeremy took the escape path - already walking into the doorway.  
“Oh no you don’t you little shit tell me what’s go-” Michael stopped. He could hear the thud of Jeremys footsteps power walking away.

Well shit.  
He followed the lanky boy down the Hermes cabin hall. Wow. It was a lot more crowded than he thought it would be, of course he shouldn't be surprised; breakfast had just finished. Michael elbowed through 2 groups of people and stumbled into the bustling bedroom - the noise of campers chatting from every direction made him want to vomit (he’d never liked masses of people.)  
He reached his bed and was greeted by a confused looking Jeremy.

“Jer you fuck tell me what’s going on!”   
Jeremy did not reply straight away.  
“Michael.”  
“Don’t try and wiggle your way out of telling me Jer-”  
“Michael.”  
“Yeah?”  
“All my stuff is gone.”  
“What?”  
“My stuff. It isn’t here.”  
He was right. Jeremy’s 2 bags, assorted plushies, alarm clock and even his dumb photo of Michael doing the symbol for vape nation with a laughing (but oblivious) Mr Heere. It had all vanished from his bedside.  
“Oh”  
“Mmmmm” Jeremy looked nervous.  
“You know where it is?”  
“I think so”  
“Then get it!”  
“Michael it isn’t that simple.”  
“Well, why the fuck not!”  
“Micha - think about it - what cabin are we in.”  
“The Hermes cabin.”

  
Michael - who made me glow pink and get this dumb hair yesterday”  
“It’s not dumb! It looks great on you-”  
“Michael think about it. My stuff isn’t here because Hermes didn’t make me float yesterday. Aphrodite did.”

  
Jeremy took a deep breath

  
“my mum did.”  
  
“Which means your stuff” said Michael, finally catching on   
“is in the Aphrodite cabin,” the boys said in unison

As if on cue there was a shrill yell, projecting over the loud chatter of the dorm room.  
“Jerry Heere? Someone from the Aphrodite cabin is here to pick you up.”  
“It’s Jeremy” Michael grumbled to himself.

Michael assessed the situation. Jeremy was leaving this cabin, and it was likely he wouldn't be coming back. This made Michael feel 2 things; sad (that his best friend was leaving) and nervous. Because if there was one thing Jeremy Heere was good at, it was panicking - and he was especially great at panicking over new situations. And Jeremy panicking made Michael scared for him because it usually meant Jeremy getting anxious which was something no one in their right mind would choose to be.  
  
“Oh. I mean uh. I guess I better -” Jeremy pointed to the door over his shoulder   
“Yeah. yeah. That’s a…”  
  
He looked up and met Jeremy's gaze. He was smiling. But his eyes betrayed his real feelings. In that moment he reminded Michael of a faun. New and scared and vulnerable.  
Michaels' heart broke for him.  
  
And he decided there was nothing for it! If Jeremy was going get anxious when Michael wasn’t there, Michael had to at least try and do something! Give him something to remember in case everything went to shit.  
Slowly he reached out to grab Jeremy’s arm with one hand and his chin with the other - forcing the shorter boy to hold eye contact with him. Michael needed to ground Jeremy. Make sure he knew he was there for him - ti try and avoid potential disaster of course. Yeah. that was it.  
“Jer” he said softly - hoping to make the boy beneath him feel calm.  
“Yeah” Jeremy squeaked. Poor kid, he must be so nervous.  
“I’m always here for you - you're not going to be alone over there.”  
There was a moment between the two. Michael scanned Jeremy's eyes looking for agreement. He was met with a kind of nervous excitement, tinged with something else, something new.   
(The thought. The Jeremy thought. It was threatening to resurface again. Michael swatted it down and tried harder to scan Jeremy's eyes)  
And when Michael was sure that the blue-eyed puzzle beneath him wasn’t about to have a panic attack - he let go and took a step back.  
  
“Try and be okay?” Michael said  
Jeremy nodded, cheeks pink (from the hot air in the cabin Michael guessed)   
“I’ll try”  
And then he was gone.

  
Michael sighed deeply and turned around  
He met Jenna’s smirk from her spot a foot behind him, leaning against the wall - she slid off her earmuffs slowly as the last of the Hermes cabin filed out the doors.

  
Michael jolted so high he thwacked his head on the bedpost

  
“WHAT THE FUCK. HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE”  
‘Oh let’s see” Jenna checked a non-existent watch “mmm 2 minutes”  
“Jeezus CHRIST” Michael slowed his breathing back to normal “you can’t sneak up on me like that!”  
“Dude. my dad is literally the god of pranks.”  
“Still. Not cool.”  
  
She smiled then. An actual smile, not just an evil smirk. “Hey Mike”  
“Yeah?”  
“That thing just then. That was literally **the ** gayest thing, I have ever seen”

“He gets anxious!” I have to ground him!” Michael tossed back at her   
“I’m just saying man! the whole cabin probably ships you guys by now”  
Michael groaned. God fuckin dammit she was probably right.  
  
“No hurry and suit up. Christine is going to kick my ass if we’re late”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet a short chapter  
> we'll get to the good stuff in the next 1-3 chaps so stay tuned  
> \- where has jer been for the past 2 weeks? (hint: it has something to do with someone who has already been introduced!)  
> \- what will happen at training?  
> \- yeah sure michael jer's pink cause the room is warm yOU DUMB BITCH I-  
> \- conflict coming? who knows  
> \- "why are the chapters so short!" you cry. i try to give you answers but my throat clogs up. i sit at my desk trying to both study and type new chapters. i feel myself sweat. a shakey tear runs down my cheek. i am dead inside.
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT QUESTION!!!  
> WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE a JER POV??? because i wanted this to be from michaels perspective alone but we might get more drama/ a more complete story if i go with jer??? but it may disrupt the flow of the story??  
> please comment what you would prefer????
> 
> anyway thank u all for reading this far i appreciate EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR COMMENTS AND KUDOS HONESTLY THE REASON I HAVENT NECKED OVER THE EXAM PERIOD
> 
> xx znozzle


	15. Quiet (Matilda the Musical, 2010)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jeremy Heere is flung around by his thoughts and is delivered to his new home away from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know all of the previous chapters have been...badly written and this one is no exception tbh but yeah reread them if u thought u were up to date cause this one follows directly on
> 
> also no betas we die like men

To say that Jeremy Heere’s life at so far at Camp Half Blood had been hectic would be a _massive_ understatement.  
  
His world was normal; good even! School was finally out, The weather was finally turning, He should’ve known it would be too perfect to last. The morning before had been sleepy and calm - before his father had run home from work an hour early screaming about a giant god knows what, loaded him into the car and driven him to this...place.  Then, as if all of that wasn’t enough he had abruptly dumped him at the door to fend for himself. Jeremy didn’t know when his father was coming back. Hell, he didn’t know IF he was coming back. It wasn’t a thought he liked to dwell on.  
And then just when he thought life here could at least be at least manageable -  shit had really hit the fan again over the last 2 days. It had started when he had snuck off back to his secret spot (as was his usual routine at this place). He was resting against his favorite tree staring over the small lake he had stumbled across, doodling the scene in his sketchbook while he sung to himself and thought about The Problem;   
And then someone was towering over him hissing and he was running - running as fast as he could out of the woods and across the grass and sending his silent prayers to any god that lay up above to just fucking help him please before landing bang splat into 

  
Michael

  
Jeremy’s insides tightened even at the mere thought of the name - before reality creeped back in and he chastised himself.   
He had run straight into The Problem (don’t think about it Jeremy) And it had all got weirder from there. He had floated above the ground, he had been claimed as a child of the goddess of beauty (Jeremy mentally scoffed at the irony even now) and been given a “blessing” (and he was still undecided about _that_ ) Then, as if the heavens hadn’t rubbed it in enough; He had spent his first time in two weeks with Him. His best friend. His _unfairly_ funny and sweet and kind and loyal and amazing and wonderful and just fucking perfect best friend.  
_‘No’_ the logical part of his brain yelled down at his heart _‘stop_.’   
He was Michael's _best friend_.   
Nothing more.   
And he _had_ to learn to deal with that.  
  
Because Jeremy thought he was many things - he was a geek, he was into art, he was a son to a dad who loved him, he was the face everyone overlooked in a crowd, he was a twink, he was also (apparently) god spawn, he was stargazing on late nights when he couldn’t sleep, he was over-analyzing the smallest of gestures, he was probably a little broken at the edges  
  
And in that moment, and for a long time now actually - Jeremy was absolutely infatuated with Michael Mell  
His best (and only) friend.  
  
And because his stupid fucking mind actually couldn’t let him _LOOK_ at people sometimes, let alone speak to them - Jeremy knew there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. The risk was too great, the leap too long, the gap too wide.   
He could imagine the conversation now.   
_“Hey Michael, totally weird, but did you know that sometimes it takes fiber every fiber of my being to not just kiss your face off when you laugh?”_   
or, even better  
“ _Hey Mike, no homo buddy, but whenever you walk into a room my stomach feels like it could explode out my nose and I think I might actually forget my own name if I stare at your eyes too long?? What a meme am I right!!”_    
Yeah because **that** would go well. Michael would be, naturally, super fucking freaked. He would leave Jeremy and then probably the country. And then what would Jeremy do.   
He would be left with no one. No player 2. No friends. No Michael.  
  
It was a possibility that scared him shitless.  
  
So, he had resolved to say _NO_ to those thoughts, and for the most part, he could keep the big ones out of his head. The grand gestures that made his heart almost explode.  
Unfortunately, the dumb little things slipped past his mental barricade with ease; Like when Michael yelled his name in annoyance after being crushed at Mario cart - Jeremy’s stupid fucking imagination would just shove the most _obscene_ image in front of his eyes, where Michael was yelling his name for an _entirely different_ reason.  
Or when the mocha boy stretched and Jeremy saw that soft hint of skin peeking out from under his hoodie Jeremy could literally feel all rational thought streaming out his ears only to be replaced with instinct and lust that just yelled at him from behind his eyes. A primal ‘ _More give me More_ ’

  
He had only one defense against The Problem. His plan of action - it was almost foolproof at this point - instinct. Jeremy had devised it in 9th grade.    
He had been sitting in his freshman year psychology class and listening absentmindedly to Mrs Hunterson lecturing about the effect of mental overstimulation on the brain. Had it been spring? Early summer? He couldn’t remember now.   
Jeremy had loved that class. He was genuinely interested in psychology, he really was! But he may have loved it more because of 3 perfect coincidences where the universe had lined up just right for him.   
These were:

  1. His psychology classroom was on the first floor and looked out over the sportsfield directly below.
  2. He sat right against the window, so close he could touch the glass
  3. The one and only, Michael Antonio Mell, had PE on that period rotation.



So, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday Jeremy would sprint from the lunchroom the second he heard the bell. He would grab his books from his locker and cross the hall to room 8b - throw down his stuff on the back table, push his chair against the window  
And then he would wait.  
It sufficed to say his teacher was unimpressed with his work that semester.  
Back to the plan.  
He had been half listening to the lecture and staring out the window at His Problem when he heard the word anxiety from the front of the room.  
Mrs Hunterson was scratching words across the blackboard while rambling again, but now Jeremy was listening.  
“Overstimulation of the mind is common with sufferers of anxiety - in an Oxford study done in 2011 it was concluded that an almost conclusive way of coping with an overstimulated mind is to PLAN”  
She scratched the word in big block letters onto the blackboard. Jeremy opened his notebook.  
“Planning can calm the mind,” she wrote this in blue chalk beneath her title.

“It can keep our emotions in check” the chalk continued to scratch  
“And it can help us break habits” Jeremy scribbled this down - who knew if all the people it would be Mrs Hunterson who would provide something helpful.

“The best plans are simple, easy to follow and easy to understand. Yes, Carlos - before you ask you will need to know this for the test on Monday. In order to change a habit, the plan must be followed through over a repeated basis of more than 4 weeks”   
She looked around the room and sighed as her eyes landed on the boy at the front of the classroom with his hand in the air.  
Mrs Hunterson sighed.  
“Yes Carlos”  
“Will we need to know this for the test miss?”  
Jeremy was eternally sorry for this woman.  
“Carlos I just - yes. Yes, you will need to know this for the test. I-” she calmed herself before she let her emotions get out of control and she flipped a table.  
“Okay, class open your textbooks to page...”  
Jeremy stopped listening and looked down at his notebook, then at his teacher, and then at Michael Mell chasing down a soccer ball on the field below him.   
He turned to the first page of his sketchbook - the one he always kept clean. (He called it a sketchbook but it doubled for a lot of stuff really. It also contained his timetable, planner, the last note his mother had given him before she left, 3 polaroid’s of his cat (Nacho - god he missed her now.) his humiliation sheets and about 30000 sketches of Michael.)  
At the top of the page who wrote PLAN in big bold letters.  
  
It hadn’t changed since that day - Jeremy still used it. He ran through the oh-so-familiar steps he had committed to memory as he walked across the dewy grass toward the Aphrodite cabin.  
It was three steps  
Step one: **CUT**  
Whenever he caught himself thinking of The Problem he cut the thought where it stood. Put up a big mental wall and said no to it. Forced any unwanted image from his mind and any unwanted feelings it contained.   
Step two: **CLEAR**  
The next step was sweeping the thought away from him. A... non platonic...thought of Michael would grow in his head, and, after cutting it, he needed to push any remnants away. He either shook it off, sometimes physically if he was alone, or taking long deep breaths if he was in public. Sometimes when that didn’t work Jeremy paid extra attention to something random. He would sing Mary had a Little Lamb over in his head. He would quote every vine he could think of. He would sketch. That helped  
Step three: **CARRY ON**  
Hopefully, he could now continue what he was doing. Whatever that happened to be, until another situation arose where he felt himself getting overwhelmed with that raw red gush of affection that threatened to explode from his chest whenever Michael did almost anything.   
  
Of course, he knew it was unrealistic to block all thoughts of Michael. He only tried to block the damaging ones - the ones that kept him awake sometimes - the ones that made his spine tingle and his toes curl and make him wanna reach down and -   
**CUT**  
 **CLEAR**  
 **CARRY ON**  
Right, where was he - oh yeah. His debilitatingly perfect Problem.  
Sometimes though, the Jeremy that controlled his emotions won out and he would become - careless. And an hour later logical Jeremy would come back to find hopeful Jeremy laid under his covers with his underwear at his legs.   
He always felt guilty afterward. Always swore it was the last time.  
He hadn't managed to keep that promise yet.

On the rare occasions, Jeremy leaned into the possibility Michael felt the same way he did, he did so with care, always leaving one foot on the edge of the diving pool. On those sleepless nights when he dared to daydream or think or suppose or imagine; he did so with caution.   
Jeremy knew that his feelings could be...a lot  
But sometimes he let himself run with possibilities; run with the idea that maybe Michael holding his hand and cupping his face just then was just a little more than platonic, that maybe. Just maybe, Michael got the same butterflies Jeremy was struck with when they held eye contact for a long time. Or the same electricity he felt when their fingers connected.  
  
Yeah. right. Michael would return his feelings on the twelfth of never.

  
Jeremy grimaced. Love sucked. For a child of the love goddess, he should at least be entitled to a basic amount of understanding.

 

And that another thing. He had questions! A lot of questions. And he didn’t know anyone well enough to ask them. Hell - he didn’t even know if anyone else would be able to answer them. What could he do with his powers? Could he call them powers or did he have to refer to them as gifts or abilities or something? If a kid had two demigod parents did that make them the same amount of god as a god and a mortal? How many affairs are the gods even having? If the Hermes cabin was anything to go by did that mean his mum had cheated on his dad? Is that why she left? Or was she forced to go? And if not - why did his mom leave at all?  
He hadn’t thought about his mother for a while now. He tended to avoid it - after all she had put his dad through. He wondered now if the hurricane she had inflicted on his home was to help them; If she had been forced to go maybe she would’ve found it easier to leave no loose ends.   
  
Jeremy really hoped that wasn’t the case. If his mother had really loved his father, or even him, she wouldn’t have left for anything. Surely the love goddess of all people would know that.

 

They finally arrived at what Jeremy assumed must be the Aphrodite cabin. The structure was pristine white marble with a wide chestnut veranda stretching all the way around. Honeysuckle, wisteria, and pink roses climbed from the supports to the ceiling where they curled and interwove along the cabin's roof in thick glossy blooms, woven and tangled enough to be a carpet of petals. Clean white tables and comfy looking chairs were scattered on the swept veranda under the flowers, steaming pots of tea placed at each one. There were 2 wide windows either side of the cabins carved wooden doors; dainty curtains hung closed on each side and shimmered a dappled gold in the early morning sunlight.   
The cabin itself seemed to smell thick and sweet - like the perfume section in a fancy department store. Jeremy could hear the faint chirping of birds as he took in the carved inscription above the door.  
  
 ** _ομορφιά είναι δύναμη_**  
  
“It means _beauty is power,_ ” the blonde girl next to him said. Jeremy had almost forgotten she was there.  
“Oh. uh. Thanks.”  
“Don’t mention it.” she said, smiling a little.  
They walked up the stairs together. Oddly, The wood made no sound, not even a creak. They stood together in front of the polished wooden door, the swirling patterns delicately dancing across the brown surface.  
Jeremy took a deep breath and knocked timidly on the door  
Footsteps sounded on the other side  
“Hey - uh...Sorry about...y’know” the girl next to him whispered   
“What?”  
“The head of your cabin.”  
“Oh. Who’s that?”  
“Uh.” Despite the warm weather the girl next to him visibly shuddered.

“She’s a... well, to be honest, she’s a _mythic_ bitch”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh okay
> 
> so... i am aware that this fic has not been updated for many a moon to say the least  
> BUT  
> i was mostly writing this while studying for exams and those literally made me want to kms so when i tried writing this again afterwards the stress kinda carried over? idk how to describe it but yeah my anxiety was having None Of It.  
> but im back!!! because i love this au and this dumb fic and this silly musical which has helped me so much over the last couple of years  
> ANYWAY ENOUGH OF ME!!!!  
> continue reading for exciting and enthralling answers such as:  
> \- Will jeremy ever be able to manage his shitty mental health?  
> \- or will the author never write another chapter from his perspective ;) who fucking knows!  
> \- will michael ever get his head out his ass and realise jer likes him?  
> \- Will jeremy grow a pair and do something (i mean probably not but)  
> \- will christine get an icecream??? she deserves a fuckin icecream.  
> \- whos jeremys new camp leader (WE ALL KNOW WHO IT FUCKING IS OHMYGOD AUTHOR IS SO DUMB)  
> \- (((((author KNOWS shes a dumb thot dont yall worry)))))
> 
> anyways folks i hope you enjoy!!!  
> kudos and comments are always noticed and appreciated. seriously comments get my metephorical dick rock hard and if u have suggestions ill probably take them if they dont conflict with the story
> 
> xoxo the dumbest bitch alive

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably get updated a lot slower then everyone would like but ill try my best. hope you enjoy.   
> this fic has a playlist that goes with each chapter. you can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/your.lord.pentequark/playlist/4EDlN42YdfLORnuo6MQYiT?si=SBpiYXg7RPiBLbhmEnnjTg)  
> please leave suggestions in the comments for anything you would like to see. Kudos is appreciated  
> if u wanna see more stuff head to my tumblr: www.plasticbattleaxe.tumblr.com  
> i also draw sometimes! so if you wanna see some eventual art of this series head to my tumblr: www.plasticbattleart.tumblr. com


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